


The Winter Prince

by Dreamsparkle



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Incognito, M/M, ski resort, working together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21793792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamsparkle/pseuds/Dreamsparkle
Summary: Prince Quentin, working incognito at a ski resort, must team up with the owner’s best friend, Eliot, to plan the resort’s 50th anniversary celebration.And while everyone seems eager to prove that when the going gets tough they can single handedly take on all the problems facing them, they all find that help is not to distant when they just remember to ask.
Relationships: Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 13
Kudos: 45
Collections: Magicians Hallmark Holiday Extravaganza





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out the wonderful art of [@lukeawesm](https://lukeawesm.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. You may see more of their illustrations further down and they are truly lovely.

It was his final day working at Brakebills Lodge and it went by fast. He made sure to take his time with each task but it slipped through his fingers like so much sand. Quentin was at the end of his run. Only years of social training kept the strained smile on his face. Practically no one here was aware he was secretly a Prince but he still had to be presentable at all times. 

He was leaving behind a place that he had loved and he would never be able to come back, not to experience it the way he was right now.

He straightened a photo frame wistfully, still dragging his feet. The deal had been a year, so it would be a year. His father had allowed him to get some real life work experience despite protest. And Brakebills was lovely, a ski lodge high in the snowy mountains, where no one knew who he was and he could just be himself.

"Hey! Coldwater!" 

Quentin jumped guiltily then froze as he saw it was Margo Hanson storming up to him. She was the boss… of the entire place. They haven't really said much to each other besides a teasing comment on her side here and there. But Quentin was well and truly in awe of her. She had more command in one pinky than Quentin had in his entire being. And he did not want to be on her bad side... ever... which made him wonder why she was so cross with him right now.

Though as she approached she flicked her hair back and schooled her face into something more saccharine. So maybe it wasn’t him in particular she was mad at.

"I just heard, it's your last day with us." She said. Flirtatiously friendly was an interesting default to go to but Quentin knew her too well to fall for it. She could and would eat him for breakfast. 

Quentin ducked his head, unsure where this was going. "I was just about to have my exit interview. I just need to find Fen."

"How about we make it an exit discussion." Margo corrected. Quentin swallowed hard, felt like a butterfly pinned by her intensity. He didn't even think of saying no. She grabbed his arm and pulled him along.

Other people's eyes followed him with jealousy or pity in equal measure.

They went across the square to the local cafe and Margo retrieved the drinks. She didn’t ask what he wanted so Quentin guessed he was in the mood for a cinnamon latte today. She paid, so he couldn’t really complain. He smiled weakly in thanks and placed it to the side as they sat down. “It’s not everyday you get your exit interview from the owner of the resort,” Quentin stated confused.

"Well I wanted to be the one to ask:” She said, smirking, “what's the fuck, Coldwater? You get a better offer or something?" Subtlety was not Margo's forte, if she was even aiming for such a thing. He couldn't stop amusement from showing slightly on his face.

"I have to go home. I've been away for far too long."

"Yeah? Where are you from?" She asked.

Quentin felt a nervous pickle up the back of his neck of his secret being out and of being in trouble with the PR guys back home. "Oh, a little country in Europe..." He deflected, Margo narrowed her eyes sensing his duplicity. "Will Fen be joining us?" He asked a little desperately.

Margo glared harder but slumped back against the chair. She blew a strand of hair out of her face. "Fen quit. She's decided to start her own company. And best wishes to her and all that but she couldn't have left at a worse time."

Quentin flinched in sympathy. "Yeah, with the Snow Festival in just a few days and all." He wondered if Fen had left on purpose because of that. She had always wanted to do things her own way and chafed under the rules of this place. “There's the sleigh ride and the skating rink...” he mused.

"And that's why I have come to you." She said with a false smile. 

“Ms Hanson…” He tried.

“Margo.” She corrected.

“Margo…” He agreed. “I wish I could stay. I really do. But my tickets already booked for tonight and…”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” She said like it was settled.

Quentin sighed. This was certainly making things more painful. “I would love to stay but it’s family... I literally can’t say no.”

She looked a little hurt at that. “I mean you can.” She said bitterly. “But I guess I should be satisfied that you have a family you actually like and it’s a different situation.” She looked exhausted, even with her pristine makeup and Quentin wondered how desperate she was for help that she had come to him, a temporary event assistant.

“My dad’s stubborn…” He started but it sounded like such a weak excuse without all the depth behind it. Biting his lip, knowing it was a bad idea, he said, “I’ll ask.”

Margo brightened up like he had already given in. But then she didn’t know his dad. “Good, go do that. I need you to get me up to speed on the Sugarplum Ball.”

He frowned. “I’m afraid Fen didn’t want my help with that. She was working on it by herself.”

Margo made a low growling sound in frustration. “Typical. Well, if you stay, that’s now your main job. I need to go try and get on top of this.” She hit her hands on the table as she stood, towering over him. “Don’t let me down, Coldwater.” She warned. Quentin found it hard to swallow through his renewed anxiety. She sauntered off, probably off to terrify someone new.

\---

“Sup.” Penny grunted when he came back to their joint room. He didn’t look up from a book he’d stolen from Quentin’s packed up belongings. So Quentin felt free to ignore him and face plant on the sofa. “Stop being melodramatic.” Penny said. “You’re gonna go home and be waited on hand and foot. I do not see the downside.”

Penny was the only one who knew he was secretly royalty. The guy had no care of boundaries and had found out in the first week, being his roommate and all.

“I don’t want to be waited on hand and foot. I want to stay here.” Quentin grumbled into the cushion. He pulled himself up into a sitting position and found Penny smirking at him.

“Life sucks. Even for little stuck up princesses from the land of nowhere.” He went back to his book missing the flash of hurt on Quentin’s face. Penny could be mean sometimes and the first few months had been hell. But Quentin now took everything Penny said with a grain of salt. Quentin was probably as close to a friend as Penny got when he wasn’t out and about charming pretty tourists. Penny just didn’t like being nice.

“Margo asked me to plan the Sugarplum Ball.” Quentin admitted.

That got Penny’s attention and he lowered the book. “Nice,” He whistled. “That’s a big deal.”

“I can't, though.” Quentin sulked. “I've got to go home.”

"It's a few days. Not another year" Penny said exasperated. "Even if your dad got mad, you would be home before he could send people to come get you."

Quentin hid his amusement . Penny had been cool about Quentin turning out to be a Prince and hadn't treated him differently at all. But sometimes Quentin wondered if Penny assumed his position was title only and thought he was pretty common all things considered. It didn't seem to occur to Penny that his Dad had several private jets and could be here with no trouble in a matter of hours if he wanted. Royalty was a self indulgent little world sometimes that Quentin only felt slight crippling guilt over.

"I'll ask him…" Quentin decided.

Penny groaned that he had missed his point. Quentin threw the pillow at him, missing widely to Penny’s amusement.

\---

Margo was still fuming. The talk with Quentin really hitting a nerve. It wasn't the kid’s fault that he loved his family. Or that Margo’s sucked. She'd ditch her family for less than an excuse.

She didn't need her family. If they decided to help her at all, it would just be to put her down. To make her feel like she had failed to be amazing when that's all she fucking was. She had bought this business when it was dying and made it thrive for years. But no, she might need a bit of help over one christmas break and suddenly it would be about how she couldn't cope and she should have known she didn't have the stomach for big business.

Seriously fuck em.

She sighed. 

She was tired though.

And she could do with some help. From someone she trusted. 

There was only one person that fits that bill.

She picked up the phone and dialled.

It rang… once, twice. There was a click.

"Hey Bambi." A familiar voice said warmly. She felt her headache fading already.

\---

"Dad, please?" Quentin pleaded. He was on a skype call to Fillory, on a secure line to the King.

"Son, you're asking for too much.” Ted sighed. “I want my kid home for his birthday. Be reasonable.” With a sigh, his dad ran a hand roughly over his face.

“Is something going on at home?” Quentin asked concerned. His dad didn't show signs of stress unless pushed very far.

“No, nothing.” Ted lied calmly. Quentin always knew when his father lied because he didn’t look him in the eye.

“How’s Julia?” Quentin predicted. At the look on his father’s face he knew he had hit on the source of the trouble. Quentin sighed and gave his dad a pointed look in return.

“She is behaving like Julia.” Ted replied. “Which is another reason I would very much like you here.”

“It’s just a few days.” Quentin argued. “Margo really seems like she needs help and I’ve already put quite a lot of planning into it already. I would wish to see it through to the end. We can have my birthday next week, can’t we? It’d be like your birthday present to me.”

His Dad looked so torn. Quentin gave him his best cute and hopeful expression.

“A few days.” His Dad agreed.

“Love you. Yes!”

\---


	2. Chapter 2

Finding Margo to tell her the good news proved difficult. She wasn’t in her office or at the cafe. Quentin wasn’t quite sure where to check for her next after that so he was heading for the main building just for a new place to look. But all this time outside was getting to him and he shivered. He pulled out his gloves, from a pocket and put them on as he crossed the road. Not noticing that something had slipped out of his pocket as well, when he had tugged on his gloves.

“Wait, your hat.” Quentin heard the guy who had just passed him say, abruptly. He wasn’t entirely sure he was the person the guy was talking to but as he was quite close to him he turned to look. He saw the guy stoop to pick something up off the road just as the roar of three speeding cars appeared over the hill barrelling towards them both.

“Look out!” he yelled to the stranger.

Quentin felt his heart in his throat, as he leapt forward. He took the man’s waist and yanked him back out the road just as the car flew by. Adrenalin thrumming painfully through him. He looked to the stranger to see if he was okay too. Imagining how just as easily they could have been a smear of red right now if not due to luck.

The guy didn’t look shook at all, he was laughing!? “Thanks.” he said with a smile. He had soft brown eyes, an easy smile and his body, languid. He was also unfairly attractive, his mind unhelpfully added.

“I’m Eliot, by the way.” Eliot smiled in the face of Quentin’s wide eyed speechlessness. “Here.” he said, stepping forwards into his space. He slipped the hat (Quentin’s own hat, he now saw) over his head and tugged it down over his ears. His hands were warm somehow and Quentin was jealous.

“Thank you.” Quentin eventually said, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. He was so very nervous with someone so imposing in his space. He wasn’t blushing, though. It was just cold.

“See you around.” Eliot purred. He turned around, only glancing back once and was gone in a different direction.

“Yeah, bye...” Quentin said weakly. He raised his hand to his heart, waiting for it to stop pounding.

\---

Quentin was just reaching the main hall doors when he heard a shout and hurried over to see if anyone was hurt. He just found Margo at the center of the commotion and workmen dodging around her afraid. He saw they were holding damaged scraps of carpet and could take a guess that something bad has happened.

“Margo.” He said timidly. He held his hands up in surrender when snapped around to glare at him. She must have been shouting in annoyance. She looked ready to scream again.

“Quentin.” She acknowledged with forced pleasantness. “Came to say goodbye?”

“Erm.” Quentin said intimidated. “I’m allowed to stay till the Sugarplum Ball Gala.” He said feeling like a child.

Her gaze was evaluating as she looked him up and down. Like she was considering telling him no afterall. Quentin stood up a little straighter concerned.

“Good.” She said eventually. “The water pipes have burst, ruining our ballroom and I have a mountain of other things I need to sort out. We need a new venue.”

She cut off from giving instructions. Her attention caught by something behind him. “Eliot.” She said breathlessly.

Quentin turned to see the guy coming towards them. It was the guy who had rescued his hat and needed to be rescued in return. Eliot spread his hands as if to present himself like he was a movie star to be admired. Like Madonna maybe. He certainly had the charisma and confidence for it.

“Oh my god!” Margo shrieked and ran to throw herself at him. He caught her with ease, like he expected it and the hug they shared. Star crossed lovers, after decades apart, had less emotion between them.

When he finally put Margo down, the guy pressed their foreheads together. 

“You said you weren’t coming, you prick.” Margo said with venom and hitting him in the chest.

He winced and rubbed the spot dramatically but he looked too self satisfied for it to be real. “I changed my mind. It was getting a bit dull being the best of the best all the time. Thought I’d come out here for some real competition.”

“And don’t you forget it.” She bit back.

So they were dating? Quentin guessed, confused. They were certainly something, even though Quentin had never seen the guy before today. They had more chemistry then all Quentin’s past relationships put together.

Quentin coughed to remind them he was here before they started kissing or something. Margo seemed surprised even though he hadn’t moved.

“Oh, this is great. Quentin has agreed to stay too.” She looped her arm with the guys and pulled him over. “Quentin this is my best friend, Eliot Waugh. Eliot this is Quentin, our Event Organiser.”

“We’ve met.” Eliot confessed amused. “He’s my hero. Saved me from becoming roadkill after some of your guests were speeding outside.”

Quentin flushed under the praise. Taking the conversation away from himself, he asked, “Are you vacationing with us?”

Eliot shot Margo a glance. “My Bambi sounded sad. I couldn’t have that.”

“I’m gonna put you to work, is what I’m gonna do.” Margo threatened. But Eliot didn’t seem upset by that. “Eliot is a fixer. Venues hire him to smooth out problems. He’s used to being moved about from place to place.” Margo informed him.

Eliot smiled. “And where are you from?” 

“Er...Europe.” He dodged. He was starting to feel uneasy. While Eliot seemed friendly, he also seemed like the type to take charge without meaning to. Quentin knew he stood nothing against that kind of presence and was unhappy with the way things were turning. He'd kind of been hoping to have a project to himself, as spoiled as that sounded. “Margo…” He started tentatively.

“What part of Europe?” Eliot interrupted proving his point unknowingly. Quentin shot him a weak glare.

“Central.” He said. “So, Margo...”

"You don't have much of an accent?"

“Uh, four years of American boarding school... So, Margo, is Eliot is here to support me or…?”

“Supervise.” Eliot corrected. 

Margo seemed amused by the sudden change in her circumstances. This morning she had no help at all and now they were fighting who got to help more. “Partners," She said with finality. "I’m sure we can all work together.” Her phone rings, “I have to take this. Quentin will fill you in. Let me know when you two lock down a venue. Hi.” She said into her phone, wandering off.

Quentin looked at Eliot. The man smirked back. Quentin turned to leave with a huff and was even more annoyed when Eliot’s long legs meant he caught up with an easy glide. He was not pouting!

\---

When Quentin came back outside from the office, Eliot was just finishing his cigarette.

“So, what venues are on the short list?” Eliot asked and Quentin spread the paper out. “...Long list.” He amended disapproving and amused.

“Comprehensive list.” Quentin said defensively. He blew at the hair out of his face and tucked it behind his ear.

“That's just a fancy word for long...” He stretched out the last word, teasingly. 

“If we leave soon, we can actually tour most of them today.” He said, ignoring the man. He didn’t know Eliot at all but he could see he was handsome and confident. Quentin was unhappy he was now being made redundant. He’d been so hoping to be useful, finally. To make a difference through his own efforts. But that idea was slipping away faster than he could catch.

Eliot came too close to look over his shoulder, jostling him. Then stole his pen and circled some venues. “Actually, I think we can tour most of them this morning. Just narrowed it down to three.” He said, self satisfied. He swanned away with a smirk and Quentin has never felt so... 

!!!

Not even by Penny!

Which speak of the devil, they passed standing at a corner.

“Quentin.” Penny acknowledged. Then frowned at who he was with, turning to Eliot. “Ugh, what are you doing back here. I thought you were working up in Whitespire.”

Quentin looked between them, surprised they knew each other.

“Thought I'd help Margo out for a few days. We are still best friends.” Eliot replied. “What are you doing here? I thought you were all big on the travelling scene.”

“Still am.” Penny agreed, puffing up proud and way more chill than Eliot remembered. The Penny he had known would have wanted a fist fight by now. “I work hard in the winter and get to travel all summer. Seasonal work suits me.” Then his smile dimmed. “Not working out so much for the other people round here though.” He said, sounding sympathetic. “Some people need to work in the summer. They have families, y’know.”

“Ah.” Eliot said wrong footed. Penny had been a known hot head back when they had all been to school, around here, together. He’d matured a lot it seemed. Luckily his phone rang. “Well, that’s the plumbers. Excuse me.” He said siddling a little away as he answered. 

Penny turned to Quentin now they were given some space. “Everything good over there?” Penny queried. It was all too easy to observe the stress all over Quentin. 

“Didn't you hear?” Quentin asked mournfully. “The banquet hall flooded and the Sugarplum Ball Gala is in ten days, and we're supposed to be sharing responsibilities.” Angling his head with a frown at Eliot to show how extremely well he thought that was going.

“Don't worry about Eliot. If there is one thing that guy knows how to do, it’s how to throw a party.” Penny said, rolling his eyes with a scoff. It did very little to sway Quentin’s growing concerns that Eliot wouldn’t just take everything over.

“Yeah.” Quentin said rubbing his head. He could feel a headache coming on.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been over a year since Eliot and Margo met up last and they hadn’t met up here. Eliot was impressed, watching his best friend. She was surrounded by chaos and was working her way through it with no one daring to question her decisions. He loved her so much. It built in his chest and he had to take a deep breath in order to release it.

But he was worried. She had called him, sounding strained. That would have been enough. But she’d actually asked if he could come and help her. Technically he knew she was only human and needed help sometimes but at heart he couldn’t really believe it. He’d place bets on her against Superman, or Captain Marvel.

He saw her break away from the employees she’d been talking to and hurried to catch up. “Hey, Bambi." Eliot called sweetly. "Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” she said but she was furiously typing on her phone so Eliot found himself believing otherwise.

“I just, I want to nail down some roles, some responsibilities.” He pursued on anyway.

“Ooh, so corporate.” She teased.

“We don't want to duplicate work, and it really seems like Quentin really has a handle on the Sugarplum Ball.”

“Ah, Eliot, I missed your ability to delegate.” Margo grinned. Eliot huffed a laugh. He’d even missed Margo’s barbs.

“I'm not delegating. I just, I want to make sure you play to my strengths.” Even though that wasn't it. He could see Margo was really stressed by her work and Quentin really was doing as much as they could do at the moment in regards to the Sugarplum Ball. There must be more he could be doing to help.

"And I would love to at any other time, but…” She looked him in the eye. “The Sugarplum Ball's important. I need all hands on deck.” Eliot sighed, wishing he could have a cigarette but that was just when he followed Margo as she entered a cafe and he lost his chance.

Josh Hoberman, of all people, grinned at them from behind the counter. “Hey, Margo, who let you out of the office?” Eliot hadn't seen him since he and Victoria had exploded the fourth years science lab and gotten expelled.

“Hi.” Eliot said bemused. It seemed a lot of outcasts from their childhood had come to work in Brakebills. He wondered what that said about him and Margo. He shot Margo a look but she didn't notice, smiling back genuinely at Josh. Wasn't that surprising?

“Eliot!” Josh laughed like they were old friends. Which they most certainly were not. “What are you doing here? Aren't like the CEO of Whitespire now?”

“Hardly." Eliot answered but did preen a bit. He was pretty famous in the event planning business.

“Why didn't you tell me Waugh was coming?” Josh asked like he actually expected Margo to keep him up to date on her life. 

“Well, I didn't know until this morning.” Margo rolled her eyes. She didn't cut him down in a way she would have most definitely cut Eliot down in school if he had presumed to need to know her every coming and going. He felt a small sting of jealousy. Which was stupid. Margo was allowed to make new friends. Even if Eliot hadn't bothered. He didn't need more than Margo.

“Right. Two rocky mountain cocoas?” Josh asked, finally doing his job.

“Yes, please. Eliot's actually here to help me out.”

“Ooh, so does that mean you might get a social life again?” He asked, looking between the two of them. “There's a band playing at Snowshoe Sam's on Saturday, just sayin'. You'll make sure it happens, right?” He asked Eliot.

“Yeah.” Eliot agreed, absolutely baffled as to what he was agreeing.

“On the house.” Josh said pleased.

“Cheers.” Both Eliot and Margo returned. He might be a bit jealous but he couldn’t pretend Bambi didn’t deserve all the love from everyone she met.

\---

Eliot was very polite on the phone and very charming while trying to book a venue. Quentin who still had to fight not to sound nervous even in person was a little jealous. “I was actually calling about that banquet hall that you rent out for weddings. Is it... it's closed? All right. Well, thanks anyways…” He hung up with a sardonic smile. “I guess we can cross that one off the list.” He sighed frustrated. Yet despite his skill, even he couldn’t seem to lock down a venue this close to the holidays. 

“The Elks Club is closing soon. Should we head over?” Quentin asked. Already knowing the answer. Eliot seemed incapable of saying yes to any of Quentin’s ideas. Yet Quentin still felt it was impossible to dislike him. It made a frustrating conundrum. He was just so magnetic, that all the anger he generated in Quentin just boiled over in place.

“We could...,” Eliot said predictably. Quentin bit his lip to keep from yelling unprofessionally at Margo’s boyfriend. “but I just got an idea. I think I know the perfect place we can throw the Gala.”

...Eliot reminded him of a lazy cat. That was probably it, he realised. The glow of interest as he thought of a new idea transforming his eyes from the usual morning soft -and how did someone look so sleepy throughout the day?- to something lively and dancing as a cat chasing a bit of string. It made an inherently selfish creature oddly endearing.

Quentin waited for Eliot to explain but instead he did an about turn and walked off. “Uh, what? what? um, excuse me?” He shouted after him before running to keep up with his long legs. Yeah, just like a cat.

\---

Quentin was still fuming half an hour later watching Eliot try and fail to measure the reception area. He got where the man had gotten the idea from and it was creative. The reception area was quite big. However it wouldn’t work and Quentin refused to try to assist unprompted anymore because he was so fed up of his opinion being dismissed.

It took Eliot 3 times before he even asked, “A little help?” The tape measure refused to stay straight with only one person holding it. 

“42’ by 50’. 30 feet high.” Quentin huffed beyond irritated. He pulled his coat tighter around himself, even though they were in doors. It was a nervous tick his body language advisor has often despaired over.

“Okay. You have any other time-saving tips for me?” Eliot asked sarcastically. He stood up, coat flapping around his legs dramatically.

“Yeah.” Quentin agreed crossing his arms. “You can't hold the ball here.” 

“Why not?” Eliot raised his eyebrows.

“You'd exceed fire code.” Quentin pointed out. Enjoying the exasperation on the guy’s face.

“Any reason you didn't tell me that before I started measuring?” He actually had the nerve to sound like Quentin was being unreasonable. Quentin wanted to rip his pretty face off. He’d never met anyone so infuriating. He took a deep breath and tried to answer in a way Eliot couldn’t dismiss.

“Well, I feel like there are two types of people in the world. Those who learn by hearing, and those who learn by doing.” He said tilting his head, innocently. Proud of himself with how calm that had come out even if the tone was slightly waspish.

“And you think I'm the second kind.” Eliot looked bemused. But he also was actually looking at Quentin for the first time like he was actually seeing him and not looking through him so Quentin thought it was a win.

Quentin just tried unsuccessfully to hide his smile.

“You know, I also think there are two types of people in this world.” Eliot said stepping closer to maximise his height. 

Quentin felt sort of breathless being this close to him. “Oh. Okay. Do tell.” Eliot hardly looked threatening but this whole situation set off a sense of danger, that he didn’t know what to make of.

“There's those who are open minded,” Eliot informed him sweetly before dropping the other shoe. “and those who think they know everything.” He raised his eyebrow and walked off. 

And there was the anger again. Hypocrite.

\---

Quentin was working at his desk later that day, futilely looking for venues he’d yet to discover, in the hope of securing it for the Sugarplum Ball. The whole thing felt absolutely hopeless. He decided to take a break and looked up in time to see Margo entering the office. She looked harried. 

“You know, as much as I want high-end tourists here, I also kind of don't.” She said.

“What happened?” Quentin asked concerned.

“So this woman checks into the Matterhorn villa this morning from somewhere in Europe. A Julia something? Ah, this poor concierge, she really put him through the ringer. I mean, look at these requests. Swiss chocolate powder, buckwheat pillows?”

“Buckwheat?” Quentin asked a little too shrill. He coughed, trying to appear casual.

“Right?” Margo agreed.

They were interrupted by a tall, imposing figure in the doorway. Eliot came in, flirting with Margo, “Good news. Chair 3 is back online.” He plastered himself against her side, “and I think I owe you a drink, Bambi.”

She turned her face towards him “I would love to, but I need to go over to the Matterhorn.” Margo sounded so tired.

“Uh, you should go with Eliot, I'll handle it.” Quentin volunteered quickly, offering his best smile. Both of them turned to him like they were suprised he was still there. It must be nice to have someone who gives you all their attention. Quentin often found himself at the bottom of everyone's priority list.

“Are you sure?” Margo asked then realised what she was saying was crazy and gave him the list before he could change his mind. “You’re gorgeous, Quentin.” 

“Great. Bye, have fun.” Quentin said herding them out and refusing to meet the suspicious look Eliot was giving him.

“Thank you.” Margo grinned. Then turned to Eliot who wasn’t moving fast enough. “Come on where is this drink you promised me?”

Quentin waited until they were out the door before he let the panic show on his face. He dug his nails into his hair, resisting the urge to tug on it.

Why is Julia here? Quentin thought, frustrated.

\---


	4. Chapter 4

He took the snowmobile up to the lodge. It was a bit of a journey so he really bundled up warm before he went. It may be too many layers but he got cold really easily, sue him.

He dismounted and nervously went up to the front door. What if it wasn’t his Julia? What if it was? He took a deep breath and knocked. 

“Yes?” It was his Julia afterall, he recognised her voice before he even saw her. His sister and his closest family. And while she was a balm on his lonely soul he still felt anxious as to why she had come. She looked baffled, examining him up and down like he was wearing a clown costume rather than a padded coat and ski helmet. “Quentin. What are you wearing? Is this company issued?”

“Any chance we could take this inside?” He asked, already feeling the tip of his nose turning red with the helmet visor up. He pushed his way in before she thought to react, still baffled by his terrible outfit in all likeliness.

“Come in, Q. I didn't realize you were… Is this what they've had you doing?” Julia asked. She’d always found his desire to be ordinary, strange. Julia was made to be amazing. The oldest of them both and the future ruler; she’d never even considered backing down from her responsibilities. But Quentin wanted to start small. He felt like his head would explode to be given more responsibility than that. The fate of an entire country would kill him. He struggled with keeping himself happy.

“I solve problems, Julia, and I enjoy it.” He said defensively. “Speaking of problems, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here, he asks. You’re my brother, Q and you were going to miss your birthday. Father's secretary gave me the address, I thought I'd check what was going on.” Julia frowned at him.

“Nothing's happened, has it?” Quentin asked suspiciously.

“You mean, aside from you missing your birthday?” Julia reiterated.

“Don't tell me you flew all the way here because of that.” Quentin scoffed.

“No, but, honestly, there were moments when I worried you’d forgotten us. I missed you. And dad has been… ugh… unbearable...”

Quentin huffed softly and flopped onto the sofa. “Trust me, I'm very aware of my role as the royal family buffer. Part of why I took this year off was so that you and father could learn how to talk to each other.” He stressed.

“Well, it didn't work.” Julia denied. “Truthfully, when I found out you were staying away longer, I panicked.” She and dad were so bullheaded. They never backed down from anything and as someone who hated any conflict, Quentin usually got bulldozered between them and this one time he was going to have to insist.

“I only asked for a few more days, just so I could run the Sugarplum Ball, which I'm really excited about.” Quentin said with a helpless smile. “You can wait that long.”

He was frightened out of his skin when a voice that wasn’t his sister’s suddenly spoke behind him. “Did someone say Ball?”

He turned to see a familiar figure and swallowed hard. The woman there in a short blue dress and glasses was stunning as always. Quentin struggled for words. “Princess Alice. Uh, I thought that you were in Denmark with the royal family.”

“Have you been to Denmark in winter?” She said darkly. She came and sat next to him on the sofa. Quentin sat up straighter. He always felt not good enough in front of Alice’s perfection. He smiled queasily and suddenly felt Julia’s opinion of his outfit was correct.

Alice gave a small smile back. “I couldn't pass up the chance to come see when Julia told me what you were doing. It's good to see you again.” She sounded so genuine, even though they parted on such bad terms. After an awkward silence, she continued. "So, this Ball. White tie, or black?”

“Ooh- Good question.” Julia agreed.

“No, see, that is the thing.” Quentin corrected, frustrated at them for ruining his vacation from all things in his life being scripted. “Formal around here means your good boots.”

“But it's hosted by a Prince.” Julia pointed out, sceptical. “Surely that takes things up a notch.”

He gritted his teeth. “Nobody knows that I'm a prince.” He admitted.

“What?” Julia said shocked.

“Really?” Alice sounded amused.

“And I plan to keep it that way. Throwing the Sugarplum Ball's hard enough without people bowing to you, and asking to see your crown.” He ran his fingers through his hair roughly.

“But I’m your sister. Once I tell people who I am…”

“Yes. But what if you didn't?” Quentin interrupted.

“I don't know, Quentin. Pretending to be a commoner. It's not exactly in the book.” Julia pointed out.

“Look, can't we just misplace the book for a few days? At least until the Winter Fest Events are over.” He presented his best puppy dog eyes.

“Events? As in plural?” Alice asked.

“Well, if you can't stay until the Sugarplum Ball, there's an ice rink, oh, and there's a sleigh ride tomorrow.”

"Could be fun.” Alice agreed. She turned to Julia, eyebrow raised, awaiting the final verdict.

“All right.” Julia sighed. She moved over, sitting on his other side and giving him a tight hug. He returned it just as warmly.

“And could you send away your entourage of bodyguards? That was them almost running someone over this morning, wasn’t it?” Quentin asked.

“We won't need them." Alice agreed, getting into it. "Not with my car here.” 

“Sure.” Julia said amused.

Quentin beamed at both of them, clapped his hands and stood up.

“I'll guess I will see you tomorrow, then." Quentin said, more relaxed now than when he had first entered. 

"Hey, no." Julia said. "Give me another hug, first. I haven't seen you in almost a year!" 

Quentin beamed and threw himself at her. Julia let him hug for as long as he wanted. She was a great hugger.

He went to the door when another voice called to him.

“Be safe. It is good to see you, Quentin.” Alice said.

Quentin blushed and gave an embarrassed wave, unsure how to feel. He awkwardly slipped backwards through the door, trying to ignore that feeling that always equated to Alice. 

\---

He met up with Julia and Alice the next day as promised to give them a quick tour and make sure they weren't harassing any more concierge. It was Julia who wanted in on the slopes right away and he was pointing them to the ones that would best interest them.

“That's it, just follow the signs for double black diamond, okay?” 

“Excellent.” Julia said. Gleam in her eye and excited for the challenge.

“Have fun.” Quentin grinned. They set off towards the ski lifts.

“New arrivals?” Penny asked from behind him. Quentin smiled. The guy was so tall, he blocked out the sun when Quentin squinted at him. Quentin used to think there were none taller till he met Eliot. Maybe he was just short and should accept it.

“You could say that.”

“And you're sending them to Devil's Peak? Are you trying to create more work for me?” Penny asked eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Don't worry. It's my sister and her friend. They're good skiers.” Quentin reassured.

“Your sister?” He asked looking thrown. "You, royalty, invading or something?"

“She wanted to surprise me for my birthday.” He said amused. Penny wasn't usually so overdramatic.

“Looks like it worked." Penny acquiesced. "So, why don't you look happy?”

“I'm just a bit overwhelmed, I guess." He admitted with a sigh. "I still haven't found a venue for the Sugarplum Ball and this just adds to the shit I have to deal with.” 

“At least Eliot's helping, right?" He almost sounded protective, like if Eliot wasn't helping he would go throw down on Quentin's behalf or something. 

“Right." Quentin agreed, smiling. "He really wants to help Margo." That was clear to him, at least. "Why doesn't he come work here? Wouldn't it be easier since they're dating?”

Penny burst out laughing. "Margo and Eliot? Nah, that is so wrong." At Quentin's baffled look he continued. "I can see where you're coming from. They were always joined at the hip when they were at school and I'm guessing you saw them getting all cosy. That's just some way they like to play. Eliot's gay as a rainbow studded unicorn and Margo's never been one for boyfriends. Lots of sex, yeah. But otherwise…"

“Well, doesn't Margo need his help?”

“Margo doesn’t need anyone’s help.” Penny stated. “She probably misses Eliot though. I've never been good connecting with people, myself. But they always seemed happier together rather than apart.” He shrugged and with that last statement he walked away.

Quentin could understand that, he supposed.

\---

Eliot was concentrating on some much needed spreadsheets and Margo was applying herself the piles of work left behind on Fen's desk when one of Margo’s workers popped in with a huge chest balanced on a sack truck. “Hey, the freight company left this.” He informed them with a wave then made his exit. 

“Were you expecting any huge boxes?” Eliot asked baffled before continuing with his typing nonetheless. It was none of his business and he had to get most of this work done tonight. Margo went up to it and read the label.

“No…" She answered. "Quentin Makepeace Coldwater? Is that our Quentin?” Eliot’s looked over in spite of himself before forcing his eyes back down. He was unsure what about Quentin got under his skin. He liked him. And his brain was telling him how stupid that was. There was absolutely nothing interesting about him. Yet he liked him anyway and that puzzle was irritating the fuck out of him.

“Oh.” Eliot asked, hoping to sound nonchalant. When Margo didn't tell him anything else he sauntered slowly over. “That's weird. Says it's from Fillory.” It didn't sound like a real place.

“I think he might be from there. Or Finland. No, Fillory. I dunno, it's one of the F countries. Just help me put it by his desk, he'll get it tomorrow.” Margo said, not nearly as curious as him. And why should she be.

“All right.” He said and between them they managed to push the blasted thing a few more meters to Quentin’s desk.

Still even as Margo went home for the night and he tried to finish his work, his eyes got drawn continuously back to the chest. Opening up google, he figured it would be an easy search. How many people had a middle name like Makepeace?

Only one, it seemed. But that one person had a lot more media attention than Eliot would have guessed.

Prince Quentin of Fillory!? Google had it up in the corner because this was actually verified and important information. Royalty was fading out and what was rare was good for tourism.

“Oh wow.” Eliot breathed as he scrolled through the many results.

He could barely believe it but there was a picture.

Quentin looked cute with a crown. It sank into his hair, like even the metal itself was shy. He looked so miserable for all he was smiling for the camera. Eliot had seen that fake smile on Quentin many times over the last few days. It was perfect in execution but it didn’t reach his eyes at all. Eliot felt bad for him. A shy nerd who was forced to deal with people daily. An introvert's worst nightmare, for sure.

Eliot wondered if he had run away. No but Margo had mentioned Quentin was leaving soon, hadn't she? That the extra days were a favor to her. He must really like this place to be trying this hard, when it will literally have no effect on his life, whatsoever.

\---

When he had done all he could with the spreadsheets, Eliot wandered down to the events being hosted to see if he could help there. Tonight was the sleigh ride and Brakebills was beautiful at night. Snow lit up by the fairy lights and candles in shop windows.

Eliot stopped suddenly when he came across Quentin. Quentin was manning the cocoa and hot cider stand and he looked... He usually reminded Eliot of an angry kitten when he was mad. Now he'd gone and added the necessary fluff. 

A woolen hat and gloves. Coat and probably many more layers underneath made him almost as round as a bowling ball. His nose and cheeks were bright pink. But even cuter was the true smile on his face. He was actually happy for once. He handed out the drinks and passed on his infectious smile as people left more happy than they came. “Stay warm." Quentin wished a couple as they thanked him. Passing the next little girl a cup. "There you are.” He encouraged gently.

“This is a great lineup for the sleigh ride.” Eliot interrupted.

Surprisingly Quentin smile only brightened, not taking offence with his presence this once. “Everybody loves it so far.” He was puffed up so proud and Eliot was helpless but to do anything but smile back.

Quentin's attention flicked to over Eliot's shoulder, distracted. Eliot turned to see two women waving . They looked like they were familiar with Quentin and Eliot decided to try and be nice. “Hey, I'll take over the cider cart. Go hang with your guests.”

“Yeah?" Quentin asked surprised. Looking between Eliot and the girls. "You should come meet them." Dragging them both away from the cocoa stand that at least one of them should technically be managing, Quentin took a moment to introduce him to his friends. "Um, so this is my sister Julia, and our friend Alice. They flew in yesterday."

“Welcome.” Eliot said awkwardly. He wasn't really in the mood to be socialising with new people but he was trying to be nice goddamn it.

“Pleasure.” Julia said, equally as baffled by the sudden introduction. If she was Quentin's sister, she must be a Princess.

Eliot couldn't help but tease. “Must have been a long flight. What, uh, what country are you from, again?” He asked to wind Quentin up.

“A small one… that no one has ever heard of!" Quentin injected before his guests could. He looked so frazzled, Eliot laughed. He was so bad at lying and subterfuge. "Eliot here is working on the Sugarplum Ball with me.” He said diverting attention quickly.

“Yes.” He agreed with a smile. 

“So, how long have you been working with Quentin?” Alice asked.

“Long enough to know that he will be missed.” Eliot overly flattered. Quentin turned red and elbowed him in the side for laying it on.

Julia frowned at her brother. “Yes, he's been missed at home as well. He's a major part of our family business.” Julia said abruptly. She gave Eliot a hard look, like he was challenging that.

“What is it you do, exactly?” Eliot pushed back with faux innocence. He wasn't sure why they were fighting but he wasn't about to back down. Not even to a Princess.

“Historical preservation.” Julia said.

“Government work.” Quentin said at the same time. Eliot tried very little to hide he was outright grinning. Quentin looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. “We do, like, a little bit of both.” He said like he was in pain. Luckily he was saved. “The sleigh!”

The sleigh had finally returned for the next load of passengers. Seemingly Quentin's saviour. He dragged the two women with him.

“Have fun.” Eliot shouted after them.

“Thanks.” Quentin smiled. And he was gone.

\---


	5. Chapter 5

Getting coffee was necessary at the start of any day but doubly so in the middle of winter among the slopes. So it almost made sense that Quentin was heading the same way as Eliot that morning and he hurried to catch up. “Quentin! Hold up.” He jumped in the ski lift with him before it moved off.

He didn’t miss the slight eye roll as he sat down next to Quentin. Someone had woke up on the wrong side of the bed, clearly.

“Hi.” Eliot said.

“Hey. You're up early.” Quentin responded politely.

“Uh, there's an issue up at the ski school Margo wants me to check out. You?”

“Oh, I needed a minute.” He said awkward friendly smile in full force. 

“And then I ruined it.” Eliot said chagrined.

“No! Don't worry.” Quentin said repentant. He really was too nice. Eliot usually hated that. He liked for people to stand up for themselves. Which Quentin could do. Eliot had pushed him to it over the measuring of the event hall after all. Reassuring himself that Quentin wasn’t a delicate flower he continued.

“How'd it go with your, uh, your guests last night?” He asked side eyeing him. 

“Alice had a great time. It's harder to tell with my sister.” Quentin replied. He looked at Eliot and seeing he seemed genuinely interested felt compelled to explain. “I think she is worried that I won't come home.” That was more honest than Eliot expected.

“Should she be?” He asked.

“No, of course not. I have to go back.” Have to. Quentin certainly didn't sound enthusiastic. Proving his theory that being a Prince and Quentin didn’t actually fit.

“Family business?” Eliot asked knowing the answer.

“Family, period.” Quentin laughed. 

Eliot decided to tell him that he knew. It was too good a secret to pretend he didn't know. “Well, she shouldn't worry. In a few days, you'll be back on a plane to Fillory”

Quentin hummed an agreement before what he said hit him. “Wait? What? I wouldn't… Who told you I'm from Fillory?”

“It must've been on my mind because of that package.” Eliot said coyly.

“Oh, okay. What package?” Quentin asked like he was walking to his death. 

“The one under your desk.” Eliot explained.

“I haven't been back to my desk yet.” He said nervously.

“It was delivered late last night. Return address said Fillory. You're lucky you got it. They put these strange initials in front of your name. "H.R.H Quentin". So, I looked it up. And I found a picture of you, Quentin. His Royal Highness, Prince of Fillory.” Eliot waved one hand as if presenting the information.

Quentin however looked like he had been stabbed in the heart. “Who else knows about this?”

“No one.” Eliot told him, unnerved. He had assumed Quentin had wanted to keep it quiet since no one knew but he hadn't expected Quentin to act so life and death over it.

“Then you understand why I want to avoid that word.” Quentin stressed.

“What? Prince?” Eliot asked baffled.

“Shh!!!” Quentin's looked like he might explode if Eliot teased him anymore on this.

“It's just a word.” Eliot told him amused.

“With so much baggage attached. Prince, it means spoiled, entitled.” Eliot really was fighting laughter now at Quentin's overdramatics. 

“Does that mean your sister's a princess?” Eliot asked as Quentin pressed his fingers harshly into his temples as though holding a migraine at bay. Eliot hadn’t really pried further so he didn’t know what Quentin’s family is like. 

“Crown Princess, heir to the throne. Why did you have to find that… that trunk?” And he looked so much like the world was ending Eliot took pity. He pushed Quentin’s fingers away from where they were digging too hard into his temples and the younger man let him. He took over, gently massaging, in small circles.

“Don't worry. Okay, look, I don't think you're spoiled, or entitled.” He said soothingly. The way the the stress melted away from Quentin was emboldening. He had closed his eyes under the Eliot’s touch and his jaw went slack.

He sighed, then pulled away. “That is so nice. But having spent quite a few years as a... Prince, I have to tell you, that word, it changes things, and I don't want it detracting from the Sugarplum Ball. So please, can we just keep this between us?” He took one of Eliot’s hands away from his face and looked at him endearingly. 

“Of course, our little secret.” He promised. He let his hands fall to his sides, reluctantly.

\---

Eliot persuaded Quentin to let him buy the coffee for the both of them. Only Josh had distracted Quentin and it looked like he wasn’t about to get any much needed caffeine anytime soon. Most people found Eliot fun, yet Quentin just found him stressful. Eliot was starting to get a complex. First Margo; now Quentin. Everyone seemed to like Josh Hoberman better these days.

“I don't know, Josh. It almost looks too pretty to eat.” Quentin teased with a frankly adorable smile. He was holding a biscuit shaped and iced like a snowflake. It was a very photogenic but Eliot wasn’t much into sweets.

“I never met a cookie I couldn't eat.” Josh disagreed. He had always been a bit spacey, even back when they were kids. Eliot didn’t know exactly what he expected the guy to be doing with his life but baker and coffee shop owner seemed par for the course. “How about you, CK?”

“Oh, I'm good. Thank you.” Eliot replied quickly.

“Wait. CK?” Quentin asked confused.

Eliot glared at Josh to keep fucking quiet but the guy just grinned harder. “In the third year, Eliot here started to claim he was the Champagne King. But was overthrown by Margo only a year later.”

Eliot sighed annoyed. “That was when I learned I didn’t have the head for being in charge.”

“Me neither.” Quentin agreed. “Having people depend on you as the last line of defence is frankly terrifying. I don’t know how Margo does it.”

“Yeah, she’s cool.” Josh agreed casually, but he was blushing to his ears. Looking anywhere else but at his besotted face, Eliot found himself recognising the curtains and he slowly remembered the place for what it had been.

"This place, me and Margo used to come here during the holidays.” He reminisced. “They had some amazing ice cream.” Eliot said wistfully. He thinks it was back then that Margo first fell in love with Brakebills. They both got a summer job here the year after. It had served them both well in their careers.

“Yeah, no ice cream, I’m afraid. No point when we’re closed for summer.” Josh told him, regretful. “So do three-quarter of the businesses up here. It's been that way for half a decade, at least.”

Eliot looked around as if seeing it anew. “You know, it's weird. Things change, but in my head, Brakebills Lodge is still the same as it was when I left for college.”

“Well, that just goes to show you, you need to visit us more.” Josh said cheerfully. He seemed to really mean it too. Eliot felt a little guilty for being so standoffish to him before now.

\---

“Well, that's news.” Eliot said, head still spinning.

“What? No ice cream?” Quentin teased, his smile adorable.

“No. How bad business has gotten here during the summer. I thought Penny was exaggerating.” Eliot said. “When I was growing up, this place was open all year round.”

Quentin came to a sudden stop near the welcome board and Eliot stopped too. “Huh.” Quentin said, frowning.

“It was magical during the summer. Fishing, hiking. This would be a much better place to live  
if there was year-round work. People could actually put down roots.” Quentin wasn’t listening to him at all, though. Instead strangely laser focused on a map of the lodge on the wall. “Are you memorizing the chairlifts?” He asked sarcastically. Quentin looked up at him and Eliot was instead drawn to the excitement suddenly surrounding him. He pointed at a point on the map with purpose. “The Summit Lodge?” Eliot read the location out loud.

“Yeah, have you ever been up there?” Quentin asked, tone serious.

“It's been closed since I was a kid. I think Margo said they store the ski school equipment up there in the summer.” Eliot said remembering.

“But it isn't summer.” Quentin pointed out.

“Well, you have an interesting taste in buildings.” Eliot said unsure, it wasn’t made for this purpose. But neither had the reception area, they were running low on options.

“Come on.” Quentin insisted pushing his hair back behind his ear. He ticked off his points on his fingers. “Great views, and more than enough square footage... we dress the room and have live music...”

“It's already on resort property…” He interrupted, warming to the idea.

“Guests could arrive and receive their champagne.” Quentin continued, as though he hadn’t said anything.

“...Which means we don't have to pay a venue fee.” Eliot grinned.

“Eliot. I’m trying to paint a picture here.” Quentin complained. He was such a dreamer. Maybe living as a prince he’d never had to grow out of fantasies. Life kind of sucked once you realised not everything is possible just because you want it badly enough. Eliot didn’t want him to lose his faith in the world yet though. He wasn’t bitter enough to want to drag others down with him.

“I'm trying to paint a picture, too." Eliot explained gently. "Mine's just a little bit more of a spreadsheet picture. This is a great find, Quentin."

Quentin stared at him as though waiting for something more. But when Eliot didn't tack on anything bad to the compliment, Quentin allowed himself to smile.

"Good."  
\---


	6. Chapter 6

It was later that same, exhausting day and they were in Margo’s office and presenting their ideas for the venue to her.

“The Summit Lodge.” She said doubtfully.

“Mmhmm. The AC and the heating works.” Eliot reassured her. Quentin and Eliot had gone to the location and viewed every angle necessary for the lodge being a viable venue site and it had met every checkmark easily.

“It should. The previous owners built it to be a restaurant.” Margo agreed.

“Why’d they change their mind?” Eliot asked, fearing foundation problems or worse.

“Yeah, skiers loved it, but it’s difficult to access, so they repurposed it to storage.” Margo looked up suddenly, a manic gleam in her eyes. “But, back then, we hadn't built the parking lot next to Gondola 3. Which now makes it…”

“...accessible.” Eliot finished for her. “And there's one more thing. I was thinking, a venue like this, it could really start to change things around here.”

“Change things?” Margo asked frowning.

“People have been talking about needing year-round work. And those summer jobs really helped us when we were kids.” Eliot offered. Not wishing to step on her toes but feeling the cause strongly.

“Well, the ballroom is open year round. No one books it.” Margo said as devil's advocate.

“True,” Quentin stepped in, trying to help. “but just think about why people come to Brakebills Lodge. To be surrounded by mountains, outside, y'know, the forest. Not stuck in a windowless ballroom. The summit lodge has some amazing views.” 

Margo mulled it over in her mind. “Okay. Say the summit lodge is all of these things. No one knows about it. And we have no publicity budget.” 

She had a point. Eliot couldn’t help but try to take one last stab at convincing her. “But, what if we treated the Sugarplum Ball like an ad.”

Margo seemed to like that idea a lot. “We could expand the guest list.” She got a pleased grin on her face, like she used to when they were younger. Eliot always just felt overwhelming love with that smile and grinned helplessly back. It felt like they were plotting again and instead of ruling the school, this time they were plotting to take over the world.

“Add some event planners from Denver. Some CEO types.” Eliot added.

“Oh, what about that wedding planner? The one with the TV show, Preston Bentley?” Quentin joined in enthusiastically. He was such a nerd.

“Whose email I might happen to have.” Eliot singsonged.

“You do?” Margo asked, eyes shining.

“We have our fair share of VIP guests at The Whitespire Grand.” Eliot rebuffed pretending to sound bashful, fluffling up the ends of his hair.

“Hmm. I bet you do.” Margo said suggestively. “Well, if those types of people are coming… this has gotta be a different kind of party. We gotta up the ante. You know, rethink the menu, get more help.”

“But, it would still only be a fraction of the cost of an ad campaign.” Eliot said hopeful.

Margo walked around the desk and sat down. “All right.” She agreed after stretching the silence for a long moment.

“All right? You wanna do it?” Quentin asked.

“I want theme, mood board, and a revamped guest list tomorrow.” Margo said.

“You got it.” Eliot leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. They left her to get on with her mounting work. The minute they were out of sight, Quentin did the most adorable dance in excitement. Arms flailing while jumping up and down. He really was impossible.

“Yeah.” He whispered, turning to Eliot, including him.

“Great work!” Eliot congratulated him sincerely.

“That went well.” Quentin said relief flooding him.

“Are you kidding? You were amazing.” Eliot could pretend to himself that he wasn’t flirting.

“Well, you weren't so bad yourself.” Quentin blushed.

\---

Two badass Princesses darted down the hill on skis faster than they probably should but Alice moved with perfect form as usual and Julia preferred the edge of danger. She whooped as she went over a bump too hard and giggled as she stabilized her wobble a bit further down. The rush of adrenalin exactly what she needed.

“Your insane,” Alice reminded her when they had both slowed to a stop at the bottom. She might have sounded judgmental to some but Julia knew her well. Alice only hated her friends taking risks because she feared them getting hurt. Julia knew how to parse Alice’s many shades of friendship. She grinned wickedly and Alice smiled nervously back.

“You know, I never want to be a commoner,” Julia stated in a rush, “but taking a few days off from being royalty; I haven't felt this relaxed in years.” Her heart beating hard from the exercise and feeling ready to take on the world.

“Are you relaxed because you're a commoner, or because you're away from your father?” Alice asked amused. She personally found Julia’s father pretty reasonable. But she also knew she had a pretty shitty baseline of what a decent parent acted like, so kept her opinions to herself. 

“Hmm, perhaps a little of both.” Julia admitted. “I'm beginning to see why Quentin likes this place.” She stretched her arms above her head working out the kinks.

“He does seem very different here, doesn’t he?” Alice said wistfully.

“Oh, Alice,” Julia said. She gave Alice a reproaching look. “You’re not thinking of going down that alley again?”

Alice was never stupid about anything, except Julia’s brother. The feeling was mutual, of course. Quentin had been equally insane about Alice. But it didn’t matter how much they cared about each other, they didn’t work. They always ended up blowing up spectacularly.

Alice shrugged, looking unhappy. “I don’t know what to do.” She admitted. “I can’t stand being at home.You know what my parents are like. And Quentin’s not right for me, we’ve already proved that but... he’s kind to me. And as pathetic as it is, I just wanted to be around someone who isn’t cutthroat all the time just for a little bit, you know?” She said apologetically knowing what she was insinuating about Julia, to her face as well.

Julia didn’t take offense, only felt amused. She remembered being teenagers with Quentin. He had been so shy. He was a sulky teenager and Julia had been in comparison constantly confrontational. They hadn’t had a good time of it. Julia had been convinced Quentin’s lack of fight meant he didn’t care about anything and didn’t care about her. She understood now that being surrounded by people of a different temperment can make you feel lonely.

“We need to help you meet some new people,” Julia sighed. She put an arm around Alice’s shoulders and squeezed. Alice smiled sadly. She turned and skied ahead as Julia buckled her helmet tighter. Julia wasn't worried she'd go too far.

She was surprised when a tall and skinny man walked up to her. “You must be Julia.” He said much to Julia’s surprise and suspicion. “I'm Penny, your brother's roommate?”

“Oh, pleasure.” Julia smiled.

Penny stood awkwardly a moment, then said.“I just wanted to give you guys a heads up. Happy Hour starts down at The Yodeller soon.”

Julia wondered if he was speaking a different language because she had no idea what he just said. ”Happy hour?”

“Half price drinks and apps?” Now he was looking at her like she was crazy. Maybe it was an american term she should be familiar with?

“Ah, right.” Julia frowned. Trying to think of how to respond. “Sounds... economical. Quentin going to be there?” 

“Nah, he's been working nonstop...but it's all starting to pay off.” Penny sounded strangely proud. He must be very close to Quentin. She approved of anyone who supported her brother... well, mostly.

“It is?” She asked.

Penny grinned and leaned down as if imparting a secret. Julia admired his forwardness. “Rumour has it, he's trying to find a way to bring year-round work to the town.”

“Oh, well, I… I had no idea.” Julia said playfully back.

“Yeah. You should be proud of him.” He said sincerely. “See ya.” He said with a lazy wave, backing away, not turning away until he absolutely had to.

“Bye.” Julia said. “Hmm.”

\---

It was quiet in the car. Quentin had insisted on coming along to help transfer the large tables from the hall to the lodge even though Eliot had been going to do it on his own. The taller man really didn’t like to work as a team but Quentin thought he was wearing him down. “It snowed a lot last night.” Quentin said anxiously.

“Yeah.” Eliot agreed. He looked as flawless as always. Quentin had always had lessons all his life to appear regal and unflappable at all times and it took a lot of effort for Quentin to uphold these techniques for even a few hours without feeling drained. Yet Eliot made it look effortless.

“Are you sure that this is the only way we can get the tables up there?” Quentin asked biting his thumb.

“Yeah, they're too big to fit in the gondola.” Eliot replied annoyed for having to say it. The roads were extremely unsafe with all this snow. They wouldn't be attempting them if they had another option.

They skidded over a patch of hidden ice, but Eliot managed to right them. “This road, it hasn't been plowed in months.” Quentin said mournfully.

“Yeah, which is why I wanted to go solo.” Eliot rolled his eyes. Then they stopped moving slowly forward. Eliot pressed on the gas but the wheels just spun in place.

Both Eliot and Quentin sighed in frustration.

“Okay. But then who would help dig you out?” Quentin asked innocently. Eliot glared. Quentin huffed a laugh, despite what they would now have to do.


	7. Chapter 7

They had only been digging for about five minutes and Quentin was already freezing. He was breathing all the cold in, after all. He dug the shovel in too hard, too fast and his foot slipped a bit.

Eliot held out a hand. Not quite touching but ready for if he had fallen further. “Careful.” He said. He actually looked concerned.

“Thanks.” Quentin said sincerely. “Do you think that there might be cell reception up there on that ridge?” Pointing up to one of the hills surrounding them.

“I doubt it.” Eliot said equally miserable. “Just keep diggin'. It'll distract you from being cold.”

“I'm gonna need a better distraction than that.” Quentin quipped, teeth chattering.

Eliot stopped for a moment and caught him with a look. “Well, you could always talk to me. I mean, fill me in on the whole Prince thing.” 

“Okay. Well, we live in this sparkling castle and there’s this like dragon outside guarding the place.” Quentin mocked as he dug. “Julia is four minutes older than me, and someday she's gonna be Queen.”

“I was more wondering about you.” Eliot specified.

Quentin shot him a bewildered look. What about him?

“I mean, what does a prince do all day?” Eliot asked. 

“Uh, well, between public appearances and ribbon cuttings, I uh, mostly keep the peace between my sister and our father.” He said wistfully. His main full time job really. He wasn’t much use for anything at home. A spare ruler who would suck at ruling.

“They don't get along?” Eliot cut in his morose thoughts.

“Well, they could talk more. See, Julia wants to become Queen, and my father wants to retire.” he said, knowing how it sounds. He smiled at Eliot’s equally baffled expression in the face of that little tidbit.

“Sounds like there's a pretty simple solution there.” He sounded out.

He nodded in agreement but said instead. “Nothing is ever simple when it comes to family.” 

“So then what brought you out here?” Eliot asked.

Quentin sighed. That was a big question. He thought he had known what he wanted when he had come out here but he found it changed every day. He answered as simply as he could. “Well, I wanted to prove to myself that I could do something on my own. I can't really do that back at home.”

“I know the feeling.” Eliot snorted delicately.

“You don't like going home?” Quentin asked curious.

“Well, my family had a lot of opinions on who I should be. When I was in college, I met Margo and we both said fuck that and reinvented ourselves. And then I built myself a life in Whitespire, and I just never really looked back.” At Quentin’s slightly worried silence he laughed. “They weren’t bad people. They did their best. But good people can still suffocate you without realising, I’ve found.”

Quentin swallowed hard as that hit too close to home. He went back to digging with a lot to think about.

\---

Around the same moment there was knocking on the door of Matterhorn Villa. There was shouting and laughing inside which grew louder as the door was opened from the inside. The visitor was greeted by a laughing Julia shouting one last word over her shoulder. 

“...Denmark!” She laughed, then sobered when she saw who was at the door. “Father?” She stood up straighter and her joy cut off, standing in front of the King of Fillory. The negative reaction feeling like a dagger to an old man’s heart. Ted didn’t know what he had done to let their relationship get this cold and he hadn’t the foggiest on how to correct it.

“Julia. I do hope I'm not intruding.” He said politely.

“No, no, of... of course. Please, come in.” Julia said equally polite. This was sure to be interesting.

\---

It was much later when they finally made progress with freeing the car and the sky was dark. They’d taken more than one break to get warm. Sitting with the doors closed and heating full belt. Hypothermia was no joke. But now they could finally move forward.

“Hey, I got the truck out.” Eliot announced relieved only to find Quentin had wandered a way away. He barely responded making Eliot worry. He hadn’t been doing well with the cold. He came over to Quentin's side. “Everything good?” 

“Eliot, what if this is it?” Quentin asked breathlessly staring into the abyss of star spackled space.

Eliot placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You know, maybe we could save the existential questions for someplace with heat?”

“No. What if this is it?” He repeated waving his arms around the forest around them. “What if this is our theme for the Sugarplum Ball?”

“Uh, Empty Forest?” Eliot frowned. “Well, if whatever you're pitching me is nixing the harpist, then yeah, I'm in.” He quipped.

“No, what if we played on Brakebills Lodge's natural beauty? We can flock branches, topiaries, hang tea lights.” He said excited. He had no idea how adorable he looked. Nose pink and strands of blonde escaping his wool hat. But Eliot could see he was past shivering now and down to a slight tremble, which was not good.

“You know, I really plan better when hypothermia isn't setting in,” he said as gentle as he could. “so… maybe we could talk about this back in the office…”

Quentin pushed past him, shooting in another random direction. He continued speaking with a bit of hysteria in his voice. “We can hang sheers on the ceiling, and then have a thousand sparkling tiny lights. And then, look over here, Eliot.” He said running in the opposite direction quicker than a toddler in a shopping mall.

“Quentin, careful over there, it looks icy.” Eliot said too late, following behind him just in time to see the slip. He lunged to steady him before he went completely over. Eliot was worried he wouldn't be able to catch the man’s full weight. Quentin may be short but he wasn’t delicate.

“Woah!” Quentin laughed as his feet found solid ground again. Eliot held him even after he was sure he was steady. Hands unable to let go.

“I'm gonna go back to the truck.” Quentin said breathless with sudden adrenaline. He laughed.

“Okay.” Eliot agreed amused. Yet neither of them moved. They were so close. Eliot really admired the contrast between those soft pink lips and sturdy jawline. Must be why he was having a hard time drawing his eyes away.

“Those tables won't get up the mountains themselves, right?” Quentin prompted shyly. Unsure how to deal with the shift in attitude.

“No.” Eliot agreed. He reluctantly put his hands down and lead the way back to the car.

“No.” He heard Quentin repeat softly behind him but it sounded suspiciously to be about something else.

\--- 

King Theodore was surveying the common area of the villa when Julia came back from the kitchen. Alice had disappeared, knowing when Julia needed privacy better than even Julia did. She passed her dad a mug of tea. “I hope this will suffice.” She said awkwardly. Praying another fight was not yet to come.

“It'll have to." Ted teased. "I've sent my entourage away, and I feel better already.”Julia stared at him flummoxed. She had never known her father to do such a thing. Straying from the book of rules was always soon reprimanded.

“Oh, funny you should mention that.” Julia started.

“Quite funny.” Ted agreed.

“You see, we also sent our detail away.”Julia continued despite the interruption. “It seems that Quentin has…”

“Indeed, where is he?” Ted interrupted again, looking around like he might pop up from somewhere. Julia bit her lip to hide her frustration.

“Right, I was just getting into that.” Julia said with barely concealed annoyance in her voice. She took a calming breath. He drove her to murder, he really did.

“You have texted him to tell him I'm here? Haven't you?” He asked. As though she was letting him down by being thoughtless.

“It might not be advisable, father, at this time.” Julia said, taking pleasure in denying him something, like he always denied her. “Perhaps you should take a seat.”

“Right." He maybe wisely listened to her. She refrained from rubbing her face in frustration as that wasn’t proper. She sat across from him and began to explain the situation.

\---

Despite Julia's express wishes, they both still ended up at the main lodge later than evening.

"Do we really need the goggles?" Ted said, fidgeting with the large ski goggles dwarfing his face. 

"Father,” Julia said with a raised eyebrow. “you asked to see Quentin, and I'm doing my best to oblige you." He was so unmanageable.

"The whole "hiding" thing.” He still pursued. “Do you really expect me to… to show up and surprise him at the ball?"

"You know how much he loves you.” Julia explained quietly. Not wanting to draw attention from the people milling about and working. “The second he sees you, his attention will be taken away from the ball."

"It means that much to him?" Ted asked, doubt saturating his tone.

"It seems to mean a great deal to the people here, and they seem to mean a great deal to Quentin, so please wear the goggles." She was not above begging. She wouldn’t let Ted ruin this for Quentin.

"All right. I will." Ted agreed reluctantly and Julia felt some tension leave her. She so rarely got to win their little disagreements.

"Thank you." She said with a sigh.

"Under protest." He insisted, grating her last nerve.

"All right." She stressed through gritted teeth.

There was blissful quiet for a whole minute.

"Oh.” Ted said, surprise heavy in his tone. “Actually, I think I will wait till the ball." Like suddenly it was his idea.

"Good." Julia said, rolling her eyes. But then she noticed what her father had seen. Out through the back window she could see Quentin walking back through the snow. Only he was playing! And with the guy she met the other day... Eliot.

**[ Art by Lukeawesm ](lukeawesm.tumblr.com)**

Quentin almost looked like a different person. Not tired and sullen but lively in whatever game the two were enacting. Mostly hurling snow at each other. Julia had noticed it when she had seen the two interacting before. Quentin looked at this Eliot guy like he was interesting, the same way he looked at his books. 

" I've never seen him like this before." Ted said, something reverent in his voice. Julia was hard pressed to disagree. Quentin was laughing. Full on laughing as a snowball hit him in the arm and he scooped up some more to throw back. Whoever this guy was must be interesting to get Quentin’s many walls down and make him relax. Something Julia had been trying to get him to do for years. She frowned. But then looked worriedly at her father.

"Well, I wouldn't judge him in one isolated moment, father. He's working hard. He's rarely silly." She said casually. 

"I meant this happy." Ted smiled and Julia let out a shaky breath.

"Right. Of course." She said relieved.

"Yes." Ted said, continuing to watch as Quentin tried to push snow down another man’s top. Julia stifled a laugh of her own. However there was no happy outcome to this. Either Quentin would come home to a place he was unhappy or he would stay and Julia would have this last year of missing him repeated.

\---

  



	8. Chapter 8

It took most of the night but Eliot and Quentin managed to get a presentation of the discussed theme with mood-boards created for the next morning. They were now in Margo's office presenting it.

"And there you have it. Winter wonderland." Quentin finished. It really looked special, with the white and gold. 

"I'm sold." Margo said easily.

"Eh… You are?" Quentin said surprised. "That fast?"

"This needs to be done fast." Margo answered. "I can update the invite list tonight, change the location, send the new ones out. All that leaves is the budget. Eliot, that's kind of your wheelhouse, right?”

“Sure is.” Eliot agreed. Pleased to be able to work on something on his own.

“Good job.” She praised. Quentin shared a happy smile with Eliot.

\---

The Summit Lodge looked beautiful. It looked way more ritzy than Brakebills usually managed to command on it's best day. Quentin had been throwing himself around the room to set things up like a mad man.

He was very distracting. There was honestly a million other places Eliot could be doing his calculations on the ball. Places he would be focused, be dedicated, be…

Quentin was sticking his tongue out as he arranged the branches of a tree and Eliot was spacing again. He was shy, nerdy and handsome and Eliot couldn't quite remember meeting someone who was more his type before.

“You're making better progress on these trees than I am on the budget.” Eliot admitted eventually.

“Thanks. Maybe we could switch." Quentin said. "My hand is cramping up.”

“Not your waving hand.” Eliot said with mock worry.

“Ah. You think that you know me so well. But this is my waving hand." Quentin revealed his hand adorably like a magician producing a rabbit. "And this…" he said making a chopping motion, " is my ribbon cutting hand.”

Neither heard the door open.

“It's beautiful. I'm glad I had my best dress sent up.” A woman interrupted before Eliot could reply. They both turned to see Quentin's friend, make quite a striking figure in the doorway, if a little shyly.

“Alice." Quentin said shocked. He stood up straighter and dusted himself down. Eliot felt his good cheer drop at the sight. Quentin's interest was already taken, of course it was. "How did you find me?”

“Uh, your friend Penny." Alice said nervously. "He even drew me a map.” She said holding up a sketch on a napkin.

Quentin laughed. “Right.”

“I was hoping we could ‘hang out’ while we are both here.” Alice said, tongue awkward around commoner slang. “Tonight, maybe?”

“Tonight…” Quentin bit his lip. If Eliot hadn’t been glaring at his laptop he might not have missed the glance Quentin sent him. He loved hanging out with Alice but he could easily see her again in the future. He wasn’t so sure he’d see Eliot after this week was over and he didn’t want it to end prematurely.

“Right. I was thinking of, maybe, 8:00.” She asked hopefully but continued when Quentin didn’t look quite enthusiastic. “Unless you didn't want to go...”

“Um... It's, um…” Quentin looked again at Eliot who still wasn’t looking over. Giving up he said with as friendly a smile he could manage, “8:00 it is.”

“Excellent.” Alice said, smiling too. “I'll see you then.”

The atmosphere was a lot more strained once she left and Quentin didn't know how to fix it.

\---

Josh came in to the main office to find Margo rubbing her eyes. She looked at him blearily, noting something in his hands. 

“Hope those are cookies.” She said and when the shiny blue came in to focus, looked at him amazed. “Where were my boots?” She stood up and made grabby hands.

“In my closet.” Josh told her. “You left them in my car about six months ago. The last time we went out. Snowshoe Sam's.” He singsonged pointedly.

“Oh, is that tonight?” Margo said, as if she didn’t know. She was going to try and evade him again, he was sure of it.

“No excuses, Margo.” Eliot said, appearing from behind Josh. “ I'm here to hold down the fort.” He promised. But Josh wasn’t having that either.

“No way. You're coming with us.” He insisted much to Eliot’s surprise. Josh clapped the taller man on the back. Which was not the kind of friendliness that Eliot would usually allow but Margo liked him well enough so he let it slide.

“I am?” Eliot shot Margo a look, like what can you do. Margo’s shoulders fell as she realised she was outvoted. With a sigh, she snatched her boots from Josh and Josh looked ecstatic.

\---

Quentin and Alice emerged from the cold into a cosy bar and Quentin immediately loved it.

“Alice, how on earth did you find this place?” He’d been here a year and never heard of it.

“I asked around. People are surprisingly helpful, considering they have no idea my connections.” She said suprised.

“I’m sure.” Quentin teased. Alice’s family hadn’t given her an appropriate perspective of the world or herself. People were so attuned to the Queen and King’s depravities in her country that Alice got practically no attention at all.

Yet out in the real world, she was not the meek member of an insane family. To unbias eyes she was simply what she was. Beautiful, insanely smart, brave and strong. It was no wonder people were lining up, eager for her attention. But Quentin had always known how lucky he was to know her.

“I’m sorry,” Quentin felt the need to say again, for his part in hurting her. Even though there had been many sorry's before. Maybe this time Alice would be ready to hear it. They’d hurt each other many times but that last time was completely Quentin’s fault.

Alice gave an unhappy smile. “I know.” She agreed. “We can’t go back. But...I miss you.”

Quentin felt like crying. “I miss you too.” 

“So… friends?” She asked. She held out her hand.

Despite really wanting to ignore it and just hug the breath out of her, Quentin restrained himself. He respectfully took her hand. He’d try to be a better friend than he had been her boyfriend.


	9. Chapter 9

“Eliot's on my team!” Margo announced as they circled around the pool table at the local bar.

“No, no, no. You guys play first.” Eliot declined. "I got the first round." He could see Josh was itching at the seams to hang out with Margo and catch up. He'd give them some space.

“Thanks.” Margo called, as Eliot went over to the bar.

\---

The bartender boomed over the din, to the whole bar, as Eliot reached it, “Would the owner of a black Ferrari please come to the street!”

He turned and looked around and saw two familiar figures at a table near the fire. He made his way over. “Funny.” Alice was saying bewildered. “Everyone here wants to talk to me about my Ferrari.”

“You're car is being towed!” The bartender continued.

The panic on her face was clear as she shot up to go outside.

“Oh, here I'll… I'll go help you.” Quentin started to say. Coming with her.

“No, no, no, it's freezing.” Alice insisted. “Stay here.”

Quentin sat down again looking sad to not be of help as Alice rushed out. His gaze met Eliot’s as his eyes followed her progression outside. He lit up in a way that was entirely genuine. He tried to remember the last time someone was simply happy to see him, no other motives. He grinned back as Quentin met him halfway.

“What are you doing here?” Quentin asked.

“Local bar,” Eliot said simply, hands up to demonstrate his innocence. “I take it that's Alice's car?”

“No, a different Ferrari.” Quentin teased.

Eliot felt a warmth spread through his chest that he wasn't nearly ready to let go of just yet. Hearing the music, it gave him an idea to keep Quentin close. At least until Alice came back to regain his attention.

“Are prince’s allowed to dance, while they wait?” Eliot asked, heart beating fast. He wasn’t used to being this attached this fast.

He needn’t have worried. Quentin held out a hand. “They are now.” Strange challenging note to his voice. His smile almost giddy as he wet his lips.

\---

“So, this is fun. We should do this every week.” Josh said pointedly. He sunk a red.

“Woah, easy.” Margo shook her head. “Once Eliot leaves, I'm back to my 70-hour work week.” There were bags under her eyes than even makeup couldn’t erase. Josh hid a frown.

“Having help is good.” Josh agreed.

“Having family is good.” She said wistfully. “He’s the closest thing to it anyway… I can’t believe he dropped everything to come and help me.”

“Do you think he'd ever… stay?” Josh hinted.

“He has built a life somewhere else, that's… that's a big ask.” Margo replied.

“Okay, Margo,” Josh said with a grin. “You are an A+ leader, but a B- communicator. Talk to Eliot. He would die before stepping on your toes and unless you tell him you want him to stay, he’s going to worry he’s barging in on your success.”

“Really?” Margo asked. Just like El to overthink things that Margo took for granted. Margo had assumed Eliot wouldn’t want to play second fiddle to her forever and so would never stay.

“And there might be some perks to staying that you don't know about.” Josh singsonged with eyebrows high in amusement.

Margo looked over at where Josh was looking with such a stupid smug grin on his face. She was surprised by the sight of Quentin and Eliot dancing. She hadn’t even thought they liked each other. But the way they in each others space, they did.

“I didn't even realise Quentin was here.” She said for something to say.

“That's not all you didn't know.” Josh pointed out unnecessarily.

She knew Eliot inside and out and she knew that her friend was interested in Quentin by the way his eyes never left the man in front of him. But she didn’t know Quentin at all really. She’d seen him around, of course and despite his well practiced professional smile she’d never seen him happy. Not like this as he laughed at something Eliot whispered in his ear.

“He's leaving in four days…” Margo said, matter of factly.

“You sure about that?” Josh said. Seemingly convinced that the world would just work itself out on its own. Margo liked that quality in him. Unfortunately for Margo, she had experience backing her side. 

Still, maybe she should ask. If the answers no, Eliot wouldn't hold it against her.

\--

Quentin had no idea what this dance was. It didn't seem to have any rules. But he followed Eliot and he seemed to think Quentin was doing fine. Eliot pulled him closer, so they were practically breathing the same air. Quentin flushed.

“So, what would happen if you decided you wanted to break tradition?" Eliot asked unexpectedly. "You know, be something other than a Prince?” He said it like it was nothing but it was a question Quentin hadn't dared himself to even speculate on for quite some time.

“Hmm, like what?” he deflected rather than answering.

“I don't know." Eliot purred pushing back a strand of light brown hair. "Whatever you wanted to be.” Implying he knew Quentin well enough to know that being a Prince is not what he wanted.

“My family has ruled in peace for almost 800 years. We've done pretty well following tradition.” Quentin said rote, like he repeated it often.

“So, you're happy to be going back to Fillory...?" He shut up when Quentin broke away realising he had overstepped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you.”

Quentin shook his head, misery etched all over him “You just said the very thing that I've been trying to avoid." He said bittersweet. "I'm happy here.”

Eliot stared for a moment unsure what, if anything, he could say to fix it so Quentin could stay. A phone rang, preventing him from saying anything stupid.

“Oh." Quentin said, checking his messages. "It's Alice. Looks like she didn't win over the tow truck driver. She's headed to the impound lot.”

“I'll see you tomorrow.” Eliot said hopefully.

Quentin gave the saddest smile. “Goodnight.”

\---

Walking out of the impound lot after a long, long debate, Quentin marvelled this was his life. 

“It's late. You sure I can't drive you home?” Alice asked. Car back in her possession after hours of form filling.

Quentin shook his head and thumbed behind him. “Uh, I have work stuff to finish, and Penny forgot his keys, so I was just going to walk home with him afterwards.”

Alice laughed. “Is it crazy to say the impound lot was actually kind of exciting?” She looked excited. Alot less downtrodden than she did at home.

“Yes.” Quentin teased anyway.

“It's been quite the week. In a good way. Mainly because of you.” Alice offered, even though it was a lie. 

Quentin was rightly sceptical. They'd barely spoken after all. “Are you sure it's because of me, and not time away from home?” Quentin corrected slightly.

“I... I suppose I never thought about leaving before. Just always felt trapped.” Alice took a steadying breath. "If you can take a year off, I suppose I could too."

"I honestly think you would love it." Quentin agreed with a grin. Between the light shade of her hair and blue eyes, she looked so pretty between the stars and the snow. Before he fell down that rabbit hole again, he whispered, "...goodnight, Alice.” 

Quentin headed back to the main lodge and Alice back to her accommodation. It was maybe the first time he felt good about their future friendship.  
\---

Eliot walked back into the main lodge from the bar some time later. He hadn't managed to get as tipsy as he had wanted and the cold had knocked all the other lasting effects out of him much to his disgruntlement.

He had come to retrieve his notes, to take back to his room. He was surprised to find Quentin in the main lounge as he passed through. He thought for sure he'd be with Alice but maybe not.

Quentin was alone on a sofa near the fireplace. Laptop balanced haphazardly on his knee. He hadn't noticed Eliot come in, as he held his hands awkwardly out towards the fireplace, trying to warm them.

Eliot sat next to him, without warning, startling him out of his focus. He looked embarrassed to be caught, though Eliot had no idea why. 

"My fingers were so cold I couldn't type." Quentin said mournfully, waving the digits in front of himself. He was surprised they weren't blue with how numb they felt.

Eliot reached out and touched one. The frown on his face, one of sympathy. "That's not a chill, they're practically ice. Come here." He pulled both hands between his own. Eliot's hands were cozily warm which was completely unfair. Had he not gone through the same trek back Quentin had?

He was about to say so but looking up muted him. Eliot always shocked him speechless this close up. He was unusually striking. And he looked at Quentin with such a gentle fond gaze. His hands long and thin covering Quentin's own.

Blushing he realized he couldn't even move back. Eliot was keeping his fingers hostage. He looked back at Eliot once again. His heart thudded hard in his chest. 

“What are you doing back?” Eliot asked, ever so friendly. Like they were friends, like they'd been friends for ages. And Quentin wanted to pretend.

He didn't have that unhappy tenseness in his expression, that people couldn't hide when it came to him. People wanted to fix his awkwardness or leave him to be away from it. Quentin had come to accept that as normal. But Eliot was smiling.

It felt nicer than he wanted it too and bitter sweet. “Uh, I had some work stuff to finish and I told Penny I'd walk home with him." 

“Oh. And Alice?” He asked an odd note in his voice, he leaned down a little and blew warm air on their enjoined fingers to warm Quentin's up. Only Quentin's face felt warm instead. 

“Well, her ego's a little bruised, but… her Ferrari's still intact.” Quentin replied fumbling over his words.

“Oh, good.” Eliot replied dryly. If Quentin wasn’t imagining things he would say Eliot sounded jealous.

He laughed at the absurdity. As though Quentin would ever be the one sought after. “I think I caught a chill at the impound lot.” He diverted. “My fingers were so cold I couldn't type.”

“A chill? These are icicles. Forget the fire. This is the only way to fix that.” He said rubbing Quentin’s hands between his own just to make him smile. “Better?" He let their hands fall between them when Quentin nodded. No longer holding but still connected. Eliot looked around the room fondly. "This used to be my favourite place to hide when I was a kid, you know.”

“Who were you hiding from?”

“From people.” He said vaguely. “People are so very loud.”

“Yeah,” Quentin agreed, his voice going embarrassingly quiet in turn. “I get that. I keep forgetting this isn't just a resort for you.”

“I’ve had a lot of happy memories here.” Eliot agreed. “Margo’s always been unstoppable. I can’t believe she took over this place.” 

“Maybe she misses the good times too. What you guys used to have.” Quentin suggested.

“Yeah, maybe.” But that would just be too easy now wouldn’t it. Eliot relaxed back against the cushions but kept their fingers linked as they began to talk about something else.

\---


	10. Chapter 10

Eliot was up diabolically early and the coffee shop had only one other person there, who Josh was already serving.

“And for you." Josh said passing a lady her drink. He smiled when he saw Eliot was next. "You're here early.”

“A lot to do today. Ice rink's opening, got some shipments coming in, have a food budget that won't even cover hors d'oeuvres.” Eliot said, already visibly stressed despite only just having woken up.

“Well, if it helps, you've got desserts for free.” Josh said with a casual shrug. Though his smile looked a little too knowing to pass it off as modest.

It took several moments for Eliot's caffeine deprived brain to understand the full implications of that. “What?” Eliot asked, leaning on the counter dramatically.

“You heard me.” Josh laughed. “This cafe's officially donating desserts and coffee for free.”

“Thank you.” Eliot said with gratitude. He leaned across the counter and gave Josh a big kiss on the cheek. That the other guy laughed and wiped off.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep it in your pants Waugh." He joked and went off to get Eliot's usual coffee.

\---

Quentin was testing out the ice rink before the guests arrived. He was more confident on the ice than on land. Maybe because he understood the rules there. But Eliot watched him whip around in circles, no tricks, just feeling the rush. It was incredibly attractive how competent he was.

“I'd call you an ice princess, but, uh, that might be a little bit on the nose.” Eliot teased. He laughed as Quentin flipped him off and kept skating. "I have some good news for you about the gala.”

Quentin came over and cut to a stop in front of him. “Huh?”

He left a dramatic pause then...“Josh is donating desserts and coffee.” 

Quentin's jaw dropped. “For free?” He asked incredulously.

Eliot nodded with a grin. “Margo agreed that if we can get the lodge up and running year-round, he'll be our go-to dessert vendor. It's not true compensation but it's something.”

“Eliot, that's such great news.” Quentin grinned pulling him into a hug, on tip toes in skates. 

“Yeah.” Eliot could barely reciprocate before Quentin pulled back.

"Do you think others might volunteer if we ask? No, that would be a crappy thing to do though right? Asking people to work for free on the off chance we can get round year work?" Quentin asked cringing.

"Yeah, abit." Eliot agreed. "But is it any better if we make the choice for them? Some of them really want year round work and I'm happily volunteering." 

"Oh, wait!" Quentin said. "You're right, I'm not!" He said way to cheerfully. Eliot frowned at him amused. "No I mean, I just remembered I've barely been using my paychecks. It's not like I need more money. I just wanted to work. We can use that, it's not much but I'd like to volunteer too."

"So we're doing this." Eliot asked.

"Yeah." Quentin grinned.

\---

They were actually getting volunteers. Word was travelling so fast, everyone in a town like this knew each other.

“Thanks so much.” Quentin said as one signee left.

Another group immediately approached him.

The girl in front spoke up nervously. “Um, I heard a rumour that the Summit Lodge might be hosting year-round events?”

“That's really all it is right now, a rumour.” Quentin explained again. He wanted to be upfront with these people that it was a complete gamble and not to pin anything definite of the hopes that it works.

“Well, normally we all go up to Jackson Hole to wait tables in the off-season, but it'd be so great if something year-round opened.” She said. The others nodding in agreement.

“It's what we're hoping." Quentin said presenting the clipboard. "You could really help us out if you volunteer with the Sugarplum Ball. We can promise that any off-season bookings we get, we'll call the guys on this list first.”

“I think you got yourself a deal.” she said signing much more joyfully that Quentin imagined. People really loved this place. They were willing to help it while it was struggling.

Eliot appeared beside him. “Looks like you got yourself some volunteers. Also, I just talked to The Yodeller, and they are doing food for free. And now I just have to stop by Brakebills Lodge Wines, and we're all set.” Eliot said breathlessly.

"I really hope this goes well." Quentin wished.

"Me too." Eliot agreed.

\---

Julia was doing her best to distract her dad from following Quentin around by showing him the slopes. He wasn’t a bad skier himself, but he preferred golf if it was his choice. “The fog is so intense.” Ted was saying.

“If it weren't for this darn fog, we could see the Summit Lodge where Quentin's holding the ball… Alice insists he's done magic with the interior.” She said. She was also looking forward to seeing it. Though the event wasn’t coming soon enough.

“Really? Mm.” Ted said. He looked much too interested for his own good. “Why do you think Quentin decided to leave?”

Julia studied him, wondering if he wanted the truth or what he wanted to hear. She decided he was in a good enough mood to be contradicted. “...I think he wants to leave his mark, and it might be easier to do so away from the palace.”

They were both quiet for a long peaceful moment before Ted broke it. “You sound as if you're speaking from experience.”

Julia sighed in annoyance. “I must admit, I often feel like I could be doing more.”

“Are you asking for more responsibility?” Ted asked. Julia looked around for a wall to hit her head against. She didn’t think she could have been clearer. Quentin was always better at knowing just what to say to their father to make him understand. She just needed to think of what he’d do.

“I suppose…” She said slowly and picking her words carefully. “What I'm asking is to spend more time with you. Learning. How to do your job.”

Ted just looked disapproving, “Julia, when I was made king, I was just 19. I never had a youth. I don't wish you to be burdened as I was.”

“It would not be a burden, father. It would be an honour.” Julia insisted.

Ted stared at his daughter, at the determination in her eyes. “We will set it into motion then, for you to start shadowing me, when we get home.”

Julia breathed in shocked. “For real!?” She said forgetting her manners. She felt like laughing and crying at the same time but she held it back. “I worried, maybe, that you preferred Quentin for the position even though he was younger. You always praise him and I have made many mistakes and...” Her voice wobbled with all the insecurities she’d locked inside. She shut it down.

Her father wrapped an arm around her shoulders, never having seen her like this. “And it was your prerogative to make them. Quentin always tended to the safe side, yes. But I have not seen anything that would suggest you would not be a terrific leader.”

Julia smiled. Finally feeling progress happen from gears that have been stalled for years.

"I know." She agreed. She would make sure of it.


	11. Chapter 11

Eliot thought he was alone up at the Summit Lodge so was suprised when he heard the door go. He felt nervous thinking that it might be Quentin and unsure how to behave but he didn’t know the face of the older man who had come in.

“Hi.” Eliot said, confused.

“Hello.” The man replied politely. He didn’t seem to be here for Eliot as he looked around. Why was he here, though?

“Can I help you?” He asked.

“Yes, I just heard about this new space, and I thought I'd check it out for myself.”

“Oh, Are you an event planner?” Eliot said hopefully.

“I throw several events a year, and, uh, I suppose they're planned.” The man said. Well that was a strange thing to for the stranger to say.

The man was taking in the details of the decorations and seemed trustworthy enough. “Can you believe this was an empty space just a few days ago?” Eliot asked, trying to upsell the place.

“Entirely empty. Incredible.” He said with the proper amount of reverence. Eliot decided he liked him.

“I wish I could take credit for it, but it's mostly our event planner's work.” Eliot admitted.

“He or she must be very good.” The man said.

“He is." But trying to be fair to the event planner he admitted. "Unfortunately, he's leaving us in a few days.”

“Ah. Well, I suppose a new event planner will be easy to find.” Maybe Eliot didn’t like him after all.

“Not like him.” He defended, knowing he sounded insane. The stranger only looked amused. “You in town for a while?” Eliot asked.

“Yes.” The stranger acknowledged.

“I'll leave a ticket for you at the front desk. You should come to the Sugarplum Ball. See this place in action.”

“Oh, please do. I'd like that very much. Thank you.” The stranger said. Eliot smiled wistfully as he left. Hopefully he would like the place enough to do all his business here. He looked like he could afford it.

\---

Eliot knocked on the open door of Margo’s office.

“Hey,” she said tiredly.

“I heard you were showing someone around," Eliot asked, "What's going on?” 

“I don’t know.” Margo said confusingly.

“I don't understand.” 

With a sigh, Margo looked at him to say. “I was showing around a potential buyer and ... her offer came in really high, especially with the promise of summer business.”

“An offer? Are you selling Brakebills Lodge?” Eliot asked unhappily.

“It is just so much to handle on my own. Since you've been here, I've been able to have  
a life again, and… and that feels good.” She was quiet for several moments. “I always knew I could take on the world by myself. And I did, I owned this bitch. I did everything they said I couldn’t. Maybe it’s time for something else.”

Eliot sat down opposite her, not knowing what to say.

“Don’t make that face.” Margo scolded. 

“I am not making a face.” Eliot insisted. Margo clearly didn’t believe him. “You love this place…” He argued. “You always did. Back when we were younger...”

“...so what? You didn’t.” Margo said angrily. “You left as soon as you could.”

Eliot looked away. When Margo stayed quietly fuming he tried to explain.

“When I was younger,” He forced himself to say, “I grew up thinking I’d be trapped surrounded by boring, narrow minded people forever. It was suffocating and I was dying, living by their rules. And then… we met. And we figured out how to be ourselves and pardon me for saying this but we were incredible.”

Margo smiled in agreement. 

“But we weren’t finished growing.” Eliot said, even though he knew Margo already knew this. “We weren’t either of us going to make compromises for the other back then. We both had things that we wanted to do. And we did them. I am done with everything I wanted to achieve on my own...

And what I’m saying is, I would really like it, whatever you decide to do with Brakebills, keep or sell, if I could be a part of it. Because I really missed you, Bambi.”

Margo came around her table and hit him painfully hard in his arm.

“Ow!” He complained, even more so when she seated herself in his lap to hug him.

“I hate you, you’re a dick, Waugh.” She complained. He hugged her closer with a smile and pressed a kiss to her hair.

There was a knock at the door and they both saw Quentin peeking around the corner. He looked unusually subdued.

“Uh, I, uh… Found this in the printer.” He said offering some paper and pushing his hair back. He wasn’t looking them in the eye. Margo took it and found it was the info the potential buyer had sent over, which meant Quentin now knew too.

“I'll tell you the same thing that I told Eliot. Nothing is etched in stone.” She tried to comfort. She didn’t know why she was bothering. Quentin was leaving in a few days. It shouldn’t really matter to him.

“Margo, you don't owe me any explanation.” Quentin said quietly. Clearly she did because he looked like a puppy she’d kicked and thrown in a river.

“I am not making any decisions until after the Sugarplum Ball." Margo promised, then sighed as the real reason she was considering selling still went unsaid. "I have to be honest with you, though. We haven't gotten the response we've hoped for.” She said laying out the facts.

“But everyone's going.” Eliot asked confused.

“Well, everyone ‘here’ is going. But the people we added to the guest-list who could make or break this year-round venue idea, I just found out, we haven't heard back from. I mean, unless you have some sort of celebrity draw, getting people all the way out here is a tough sell.” It was a hard fact for Margo to have to face as well.

Quentin looked devastated and left without saying anything more. Margo looked to Eliot who watched him leave with worried eyes. 

Quentin bumped into Julia, right outside the door. She caught his arm. “I couldn't help but overhear. Are you all right?” She asked.

“I'm fine, I... I just, um… I need some air.” Quentin said offering a truly shaky smile. But Julia didn’t let him go.

“Quentin, what did…” She started to ask. But Quentin yanked away. He took a steadying breath.

“I... I know you want to help, Julia. I just need a minute.” Quentin insisted. He turned and walked away. Julia's gaze went steely. Quentin was always too passive with his own needs. 

But Julia was aware that any problem could be solved if you weren't afraid to cross a few boundaries.

\---

Quentin knew these next few days were going to suck. He’d really wanted to help the people here and make his mark but he guessed he just wasn’t cut out for it. He walked morosely into the cafe the next morning for a much needed pick me up. There was a huge line but as soon as Josh saw him he waved him over.

“Quentin, I've got your latte here.” He said eagerly. Quentin looked at the long line of people who have been waiting far longer than him and felt incredibly put on the spot.

“I'll wait.” He said embarrassed, trying to fix the situation.

“No, no, no, no right here, come on.” With a strange feeling of dread, he walked past the line. None of the patrons seemed upset and were looking at him and whispering amongst themselves. Quentin wondered if he was in a nightmare.

“Thanks.” He said to Josh, teeth gritted with a fake smile. But Josh wasn’t done. He produced a brown bag.

“And, I baked these just for you. Open them.” He said eagerly. Quentin did, hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was and knowing already that it was. It was a cookie shaped and decorated like a crown. He looked at the crowd of onlookers in a new light. They weren’t here for coffee. They were here because they had heard about him.

“A real prince.” One girl gasped.

“-Quentin!” A guy he didn’t know shouted out to him.

“-Quentin!!” Another voice further away.

On the table, to the side, was a newspaper and the clearest picture of him with a crown. Quentin picked it up and saw the headline about him being a Prince. He took it with him and rushed out before he caused a mob. 

He wasn't sure if he was angry or upset. He just felt panic building. A way, away from the cafe, he realised he knew exactly who had caused this commotion and where to find them. He folded the newspaper and set out in search of them.

He found her outside the main lodge.

“Julia.” He said as calmly as he could. He caught her arm as he swung past and pulled her somewhere more secluded.

“Oh, Quentin!" She said surprised then more alarmed as he pulled her along, "Wait! Wait… Where are we going?” She asked.

Once away from other people, he brandished the newspaper with his face on it and the headline about him being a Prince. Julia looked only slightly guilty.

“Ah.” She said. “Are you mad at me?” Definitely the one at fault.

“I am not thrilled.” He said a little shrilly. “But I'm also confident you have a good explanation for going against the one thing I asked you not to do.”

“Quentin.” She said, reaching out to touch his arm. “It's been really good seeing you get passionate about something. How much you care about this place. But you are also my brother, and I know how much pride you have in being above playing the game and using what you feel are unearned advantages to fix a problem. You would never reveal you are a prince just to have a better turnout at the ball. But that's what you needed.”

“So you leaked my secret to the newspaper? For me?” He asked.

“Yes, with the best of intentions.” She said crossing her heart. 

He blew a strand of hair out of his face and sulked. He glared at the grin appearing on Julia's face as she already knew he'd given up being mad at her. He was going to have to deal with this situation either way now and he'd rather not be fighting with his sister on top of it.

"Fine." Quentin surrendered with an eye roll. Julia threw herself into a side hug and Quentin grinned back. Julia would always be his best friend and would always have his back even if they didn't agree on something.

\---


	12. Chapter 12

Quentin managed to arrive at the Summit Lodge an hour later, stressed and without his coffee. But he was surprised to find it in a flurry even without him. He found Eliot in the middle, barking orders while painting a banner.

“Well, this is surprising.” Quentin said, as he came closer.

“I know.” Eliot said pleased. “Apparently, I'm artistic.” Quentin smiled at how adorable he looked while proud.

“I meant that you're even here. I figured after last night…” that he’d back at his real job now that Margo wasn’t keeping the place.

“I thought about it. I feel like we can still get Margo to change her mind.” He said.

“You do?” Quentin asked hopeful.

“Mmhmm.” Eliot agreed. He stepped down from the banner and turned Quentin towards the many people rushing around, pointedly.

“Wait. All these people?” Quentin asked.

“Volunteers.” Eliot said from behind him, too close to his ear for Quentin to think clearly. “Who signed up before anyone knew you were a Prince. Quentin. This is about more than you or me. And these people really believe in our vision for this place. You know, the other day, you asked me why I stayed away. Well, you never asked me what brought me back. It's this. People working together, having each other's backs, making a good thing great.” 

Quentin took a breath, overwhelmed. “That's Brakebills Lodge for you. I'm missing it already.” His heart was a mess of tangles and his smile bittersweet.

\---

With Quentin becoming the new special guest to gawk at, at this ball. Quentin was going to have to go fully gussied up in his uniform, instead of something more comfortable and casual. As such, he had left his crown out from containment and Penny had gotten a hold of it, before he'd realised. He found his roommate trying it on in the bathroom.

"What? It's so heavy!" Penny exclaimed. He looked super strange with it on. Being royalty came with a certain amount of perceived properness and Penny was a wild, bad boy through and through. Just imagining him trying to be polite to the stuffy elite back home made Quentin laugh.

"Try wearing it during a five-hour state dinner." Quentin grinned.

"How do you even hold your head up?" Penny asked, getting a picture of himself in the mirror to posterity.

"Strong neck muscles." He answered. “You better not let that picture get out. My publicist doesn’t need the stress.” 

"Mmhmm." Penny kind of agreed. 

There was a knock at the door and Quentin left him to it.

"Enjoy." He called as he went out.

\---

"Was Quentin terribly upset?" Ted asked Julia.

"Yes. But he did seem to cheer up quite a bit after shoveling snow down my sweater.” She said holding back a smile. “It's just, I've seen how important this place is to him. I had to do something! It was probably the wrong thing to do though, wasn't it?"

"You could have gone about it more honestly.” He said softly. “I also know it was a difficult call to make.”

\---

The last day before the ball was manic. Quentin had thought he'd done most of it already but so much cropped up, last minute, he was extremely grateful for the help. However, it was getting late and they needed to call it a night.

"Thanks so much." Quentin wished the volunteers as they finally packed up. They would all be back tomorrow for the main event. They were beyond amazing for doing this.

The last person closed the door and both Quentin and Eliot sighed in relief. Then laughed at the synchronized timing of it.

"Please say that we're almost done." Eliot pleaded.

"Well, we've got a couple of finishing touches, and we have to get the sound system up, but we're almost there." Quentin promised. "Oh and um, I found the most amazing orchestra in Boulder. I'll play you my set list, listen to this."

"Well, I thought that we decided on a DJ." Eliot argued.

"No, we talked about it,” Quentin said faux innocently, “and we circled back to doing an orchestra."

Eliot glared at him but without too much heat. "Okay, and what's this orchestra going to be playing?"

"Waltzes, of course." Quentin told him.

Eliot scrunched his nose in disgust. "I'm starting to wish I hadn't vetoed the harpist." Eliot said dramatically.

"Oh, come on Eliot. I bet you've never even waltzed before." Quentin laughed. "You might like it."

"No. Not a chance." Eliot said, shaking his head.

"Well, I think we should make sure that the space works." Quentin said, holding out his arms, in prompt. Eliot wasn’t one to leave him hanging, through he still grumbled, took his place. The pretty music played lightly in the background.

"Elbow up." Quentin instructed. Eliot smirked, he liked him bossy. "Okay. Ready?"

"Sure." Eliot smiled.

"And a one…" Quentin started but they crashed together almost immediately. They both laughed.

"Counter clockwise. You always have to go counter clockwise, or else you'll crash." Quentin explained.

"Okay." Eliot agreed, though he couldn’t quite think which way was counter-clockwise when it wasn’t on a wall. He guessed he would just go the opposite way to the one he had gone.

When they moved this time, it went a lot more smoothly. Quentin was sturdy, clearly practiced in his movements. Yet his attention was on Eliot. "Why are you leading?" Eliot complained good naturedly.

"I'm trying to show you what to do." Quentin told him cheekily. 

Eliot wasn't as well put together as he usually was. His sleeves rolled up, revealing his forearms and top button undone. Quentin got a silly little thrill from being allowed to dance with him like this. Just desperately memorising one more good memory before he had to go...

"Okay, I'm gonna get dizzy." Eliot complained after a moment. "I'm... I'm gonna wrap this up." Eliot said. He easily maneuvered Quentin to spin and caught him in a dip.

"Well, you got that part down." Quentin grinned breathlessly. He’d never been dipped before. People didn’t usually dip Prince’s. Eliot pulled him up again and Quentin couldn't stop smiling. He turned away, hiding his blush as he went back to where the sound system resided. He couldn't dance all night, no matter how much he wanted to.

\---

Margo caught him as he dropped off his stuff in the office for the night.

"Quentin, you'll never guess who just checked in! The CEO of the Bank of Denver. And the US Ski event planner! And Preston Bentley, that guy who does all those TV weddings. I mean, it's fucking happened! Just like you said!" She was practically bouncing. He'd never seen her with this much energy. He started to, finally, hope again. That something he was doing mattered - just this once.

\---

Margo and Eliot looked amazing. They were the first to arrive, to host and invite people in and they had dressed for the occasion. And considering the fancy stuff they both usually wore, it was really saying something. Quentin being a special guest would have to arrive later. It was safer in terms of security to not have him arrive with the majority.

And when he arrived it was with all the pomp and circumstance Quentin probably hated. His royal uniform, some expensive material that somehow looked both new and broken in. And that adorable crown that sunk into Quentin’s hair making it look so fluffy. He looked like every Disney daydream of Prince Charming rolled together.

"You forget your party face at home?" Margo asked. Eliot could only imagine what face he was making to make her so worried.

"I'm fine. It's just, I've known Quentin was a Prince this whole time and he is no different to me, but…” he sighs, “I'm starting to realize, Margo. He's really a Prince." He said waving his arm to where Quentin was bowing to a young lady who had approached him.

"What do you mean?" Margo asked.

"This is his life. Everything here was just a… a vacation. This is his reality." Eliot explained. "I'm not gonna be able to convince him to stay. It's not in the cards for him. It was selfish of me to think I could."

"Ohhh…” Margo said, not having realised Eliot had gotten this deep. He never got this deep. “I don't want to see you get hurt."

"You don't have to worry about me." Eliot lied, smile fake. It was clear Margo knew he hadn't told the truth as well.

\---

Julia quickly came to Quentin for the first dance. It was a thing that she always did because if she left her brother too long to stew in his own self pity at the start of a party, the quicker he began to plot his escape, "May I have the first dance?” 

He gratefully took her hand and their movements were second nature as they waltzed around the room. “Quentin, you're awfully quiet. Have you nothing to say?"

Quentin smiled, but there was little humour in it. "Just that your gamble worked. The people who we wanted to come, actually came."

"So, you wanted to say?" Julia teased. Trying to rile him out of his bad mood.

He rolled his eyes. "Thank you." 

Julia laughed. "Hm. Well, I should be thanking you. Seeing you go after what you wanted here inspired me to do the same." Julia admitted.

"I don't understand what that means, but I suppose I will take it." Quentin said, confused.

"Father and I talked." She said, much to Quentin’s surprise. "He's going to have me shadow him this spring."

"Shadow him? You mean?..." Quentin asked excited.

"Well, if all goes well, I won't be crown princess much longer." She said.

"So he agreed to step down?"

"Well, not right away, mind you. But within the next year or two."

"I am so happy for you, Julia." Quentin said throwing himself into a hug, despite the impropriety. Julia hugged him back just as tightly.

"Yes, we have a lot to celebrate." She agreed and moved to guide him towards the volunteer she’d gotten to help her. The volunteer was holding a cupcake with one single candle.

"What is this?" Quentin said shocked.

"It's for your birthday wish. You've never missed a year." Julia told him.

"You remembered.” Quentin said thrilled. “ This is one tradition I always want to keep." He agreed.

"Me too." Julia promised. "One, two, three…” Quentin blew out the candle. “Happy Birthday. What is it that you wished for?" She asked.

"Nothing important." Quentin lied. Julia could see the bittersweet smile on his face but was distracted as someone else approached her. It was Quentin’s roommate Penny, but he was looking to her, rather than her brother, rather shyly.

"Excuse me. I don't want to be forward, but this might also be my only chance to dance with a princess at a ball?" Penny asked. Julia looked to Quentin who was fondly laughing at his friend. Penny gave him a finger. Julia figured he was safe enough. 

"I'd love to." She said politely.


	13. Chapter 13

Quentin noticed Eliot standing alone and took the opportunity to go stand next to him. He worried; it felt like Eliot had spent most of the night avoiding him. "There you are." Quentin asked. "What have you been up to?" 

"Just, you know, taking things in." Eliot said, only barely glancing at him, increasing his anxiety.

"I'm sorry about all the fuss out there.” Worried maybe that was what was upsetting Eliot. “The whole Prince... thing."

"That is who you are. You don't need to apologize for it.” Eliot said far too kindly. “It was important for me to see… who you're, you know, you're born to be." That however sounded wrong. Quentin looked at him shocked.

"I don't want to be born into something. I want to choose.” Quentin had thought Eliot understood that. He didn't know what else to say but it felt like he had already lost something irreplaceable. "I wish…"

The look Eliot gave him was strained. Quentin stood up straighter, though his heart was in pain. "Eliot…" he whispered but there was nothing to say. He was leaving tomorrow. It wasn't like there was any chance for a relationship. There was no reason to drag their feelings out in the open when it amounted to only loss.

Quentin swallowed hard. "I'm really glad we met." He eventually said, smile tight to hide how close he felt to crying.

"Yeah." Eliot said roughly. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Excuse me." Eliot placed his drink down on the table and slipped into the crowd, leaving Quentin behind.

Even now, while he felt stabbed through the chest, he continued to watch Eliot till he disappeared. They'd barely known each other but maybe that was what made it worse. All the potential to be something special and Quentin would always be left wondering, what if…

"Excuse me." Quentin heard someone say. They sounded so familiar, he turned to see his dad, handing his coat into the cloak room.

He blinked, wondering what strange hallucination was this? The man turned to him, eyes gleaming with mirth when they met Quentin's and he knew it was true. He was by his dad's side in an instant.

"Father… You flew halfway across the world to come to my party?" Quentin grinned.

"To see my son on his birthday, I'd fly just about anywhere." He assured. Quentin laughed. He so desperately wanted to hug his dad but he’d made that mistake enough times in public when he was younger that he knew not to. Instead he bowed as was proper.

"Oh, no, no, no, no.” His dad stopped him. “No bowing! I'm incognito. This is your night."

This night was full of surprises. 

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you." Quentin said, smiling though his eyes were wet. It was made better once again as Margo interrupted them.

"Sorry to interrupt." She apologised unknowingly to his Dad. "I had to tell you... I have had four booking requests for the summer." She said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.

"Margo, that's wonderful." Quentin said grinning. "And I would be happy to reveal myself as royalty anytime you need to drum up business." He hoped it was all the time. Though he doubted he would be allowed to come back anytime soon. A guy could still hope.

Margo shook her head. "Quentin, people might show up for a spectacle, but they're not going to book the space unless it's top notch. And that has nothing to do with your title. but it has everything to do with what you did here." Margo said. Quentin felt so grateful for having met her and Eliot and it was killing him.

"Well, it wouldn't have happened if it weren't for Eliot." He said needlessly. Margo already knew how great Eliot was. They were best friends after all but he still needed to say it. Like that connection, if anything, meant something, still.

Margo looked like she was about to say something back but someone called her. "Excuse me." She said apologetically.

"So. When will I get to meet this Eliot fellow?" His dad asked. Quentin felt himself flush embarrassed. He looked over to where Eliot was hiding, and then looked away again. 

"Let's just enjoy the party." He tried to distract, unaware his dad had followed his gaze to the man in question and had a considering look on his face. But Ted let it lie for the moment and that was all Quentin wanted.

\---

As soon as Quentin was distracted, Ted took it upon himself to hunt Eliot down and found him taking a breather outside.

"For a man who's just thrown a heck of a party, you don't look very upbeat." He speculated, startling the young man. Ted smiled as friendly as he could manage. 

Eliot, however, wasn't in the right state of mind to host. "I'm not having the best night." Eliot admitted, hoping the guy would take the hint.

"I sense this is romance related." Ted persisted. Eliot looked up startled. This was the second time the man had turned up when Eliot was alone and morose. He remembered the guy as the possible event planner he'd saved a ticket for.

"You sense right." Eliot said eventually.

"I don't envy people your age. Finding the right person is never easy." He said. He sounded like he was talking from experience. 

Not knowing why, maybe it was because the man seemed so willing to talk about it, Eliot confessed, "You know, what's even more of a struggle is finding someone who might be the one, and then having to walk away from them.” He changed his mind. This was a bad idea. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't be bothering you with this." He said rubbing his temples to ward off stress.

"No, sometimes it's easier to talk to a stranger.” He said calmly and Eliot stayed still. “So, what's making you walk away?"

"He... has some major family obligations.” That was the best way to put it, right? “I didn't think it would be fair to pull him away from them, even if I could." It sounded so stupid out loud but that didn't make it any less valid. He was torn in two but then he remembered how Quentin looked whenever he properly smiled and Eliot couldn't be responsible for adding to his stress. It was an impossible situation. "I think I'm going to head out. Thanks for listening." Well, this was not at all awkward.

"Anytime." The man reassured. Before he got to the door the man added. "Oh...might I give you some advice? Stay at the party a few more minutes."

"Why?" Eliot asked baffled.

"Well, if you leave, your fate is sealed. If you stay, your fortune could change." The man said. Eliot frowned but ...it made sense. He would try and stay longer. This might be the last time he sees Quentin after all.

\---

Ted cornered Quentin next. Though he did it gently. "Everyone is saying such nice things about you. Must be very hard to say goodbye." He prompted.

"I promised I would come back home, and a promise is a promise." Quentin said, though his heart wasn't in it. Ted sighed. There was no point dragging his son back, if he was going to leave his heart here.

"Well… you made that promise before I saw what you've built here." Ted pointed out.

"Well, last time I checked, you didn't raise me to be an event planner. So…" Quentin said back, shrugging.

"No, I raised you to be a Prince. Which you will always be, no matter where you are. I saw that tonight, in what you did for this town." Ted reassured.

"Whatever part I played, it was the least I could do. This place has given me a lot of happy memories." Quentin admitted though he didn’t think it would change anything. Which made him even more surprised by his father’s next words.

"Then, be happy here." Ted told him. He was delighted to see the stress leave his boys face and be instead filled with hope.

"You mean?" Quentin asked tentatively. 

"Stay here." Ted agreed.

"Stay? Here? In Brakebills Lodge? Is that even an option?" Quentin asked again, still not believing it.

"Well, I never presented it as one before, because I was afraid of losing you. But after seeing all this, I'm not losing a prince. Brakebills Lodge is gaining one. You have my blessing, Quentin." Quentin jumped up and gave him a hug despite his instinct that he would be told off and though it was not usually how their family showed affection, Ted tentatively patted him on the back too. 

"Thank you." Quentin breathed.

"Well, don't thank me. Thank the young man I met." Ted smirked.

"Young man?" Quentin asked confused.

"Yes. A friend of yours?” Ted said and waved someone over. Then there Eliot stood, looking equally confused to be summoned by the man and why he was talking to Quentin. “I don't believe we've been formally introduced. I'm Theodore, Quentin's father."

Eliot’s eyes widened with horror. Quentin had never seen him so alarmed. "And I am extremely embarrassed that I was just pouring my heart out to you." He said quietly. Though Quentin still heard.

"And what exactly did you pour out to my father?" Quentin really wanted to know. This was all so bizarre and happening at once. If anything Eliot blushed harder.

"I'll let him tell you." Ted laughed and left them both alone.

“I’m staying.” Quentin announced without further ado, still in awe of what he was saying. “My dad agreed and I am not going anywhere."

"I'm sorry about before, I panicked and I shouldn't have ." Eliot apologized. He was very sincere about it and looked like he was worried Quentin no longer cared for him

"Thank you." Quentin teased. "Now, I'm not done hearing about how you poured your heart out to my father." Quentin stepped closer.

Eliot took his hand and pressed a kiss to it. "You have plenty of time to hear all that. Just give me one minute..." Eliot said as he caught Margo going past. There was one thing that could make this moment better. "So? What's the verdict?" He asked his best friend.

"Great party." Margo said, not taking the bait.

"You know," Eliot frowned. "I had a thought about a guy who could help you run the resort. He's experienced. He's devoted. Knows the resort through and through. There is a little problem. He's a bit of a delegator." Eliot teased.

"Do not do this to me." Margo threatened, but Eliot didn’t think she really meant it.

"I want to.” Eliot insisted. “You and me together again. I’ve got my head on straight this time and we will be formidable."

"You're serious? You're 100 percent in?" Margo warned.

"I am if you are." Eliot replied.

"You know running this place is tough, even with the two of us." Margo continued to fight him.

"What if it wasn't just the two of us?" Eliot said slyly. He waved his hand at Quentin who was pretending not to listen in but lit up when Margo turned to him. Margo looked at Eliot like she wondered if he was joking.

"Oh my god! No! Come here!" Margo insisted. Quentin went for the hug before Margo had finished the statement and Eliot wrapped both his favourite people up from the outside. They could do this, they really could. And Quentin was staying. He could finally call this place home, after a year of it already feeling as such. He didn't know how to handle how he was feeling. He was pretty sure he'd never felt it before anyway. It was a lot.

\---

The next few hours of the party were amazing. It finally felt like a celebration and not a goodbye. And then it started to end and people began to dwindle. The three of them were some of the last people to go. Eliot pulled Quentin back from the gondola lift before he could get on.

"We'll meet you at the Yodeller…" Eliot told Margo and Josh. 

"Bye!" They said, waving and laughing. More than a little buzzed.

Quentin was smiling and admiring how beautiful the town was from up here. All pretty lights in between dark snowy trees, though Eliot was instead watching Quentin.

"You know, last week I was dreading each day, counting down to another Christmas alone?" Eliot admitted quietly.

"And?" Quentin prompted, knowing there was more.

"And somewhere between getting stuck in the snow and planning the most difficult party ever planned… I stopped counting." Eliot finished.

"The town got to you?" Quentin teased, nudging him in the ribs, clearly having no idea.

"I think you might have got to me, too.” Eliot laughed. He stepped closer. It was so cold out here, he could see both their breaths crystalise in front of them. He usually wasn’t this scared just to kiss someone but he had a feeling Quentin was a once in a lifetime opportunity that he couldn’t screw up again. 

Their kiss was warm and soft and filled with so many different feelings wrapped up in one another. Quentin gasped and blinked when they separated, like he felt it too. He didn’t care if Quentin was a Prince or not, anymore. He just didn’t want to lose him.

Another gondola turned up and it was empty, so Eliot stepped aboard and held out his hand, whisking Quentin on board beside him. He felt settled. And that was strange. That was something he’d never felt before. But he thought he could get used to it, now he was here.

**Author's Note:**

> Please no negative comments. A lack of kudos is perfectly fine.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Moondust (art for The Winter Prince)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21803158) by [lukeawesm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukeawesm/pseuds/lukeawesm)




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